Kismet
by Ivy Orabelle
Summary: Erik and Christine are together...but what becomes of Raoul? A story of new beginnings, romance, adventure, and friendship. The characters in this story are based on those in the Susan Kay novel and the ALW musical. Updated regularly! Reviews welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

Is fate real? Are we in control of our own destiny, or is there some higher power that has our lives all planned out and there is nothing we can do to change it? If fate is real and we have no control, why must we make decisions if our lives are pre-determined to have a certain outcome? My mother always told me that we can control our own kismet, as she used to call it. I used to believe she was right. I used to believe I had met the love of my life at the age of fourteen.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone away to Spain with my brother for all those years. Would Christine and I still be together? Or would _**he**_ still have come between us? Were we destined to be separated? So many times I tried to contact her over the years; her letters were always returned for unbeknownst to me, she had moved into the dormitories at the Paris Opera. Were her returned letters the first sign that we were not meant for each other? Or was it when I did not recognize her right away at the opera? Perhaps I should have known better than to fall in love with someone at such a young age. Who really finds their soul mate at the age of fourteen?

I pondered all of these questions as I made my way home from another humiliating encounter with the woman I thought was the love of my life, Christine Daaé. I angrily kicked a pile of snow before I proceeded to the front door of my home.

"Raoul! Where have you been?" Dorice, the head maid of the household, shouted at me. "Please do not tell me you were at the opera pestering that poor child. She is not worthy of your time. When will you see that?"

"Please, Dorice," I said irritably, "leave me. I wish nothing but to be alone right now."

"If that is what you would like," Dorice replied huffily, taking my hat and coat. She looked me over and gave me a disapproving nod before departing to her quarters.

After Dorice was gone, I threw myself onto the couch and stared up at the high beamed ceiling. I could only think of one person. Christine. Christine! She was the only one I had ever loved. Three months ago, I was bound and determined to have her as my wife. Now, I wanted to forget her existence. I wanted to wipe the memory of her from my mind forever.

So many questions ran through my head. I could not seem to find the answers to any of them. I got up, poured myself a rather large glass of brandy, and began pacing around the room.

"Why can't I just accept it?!" I yelled loudly, as I swatted a pillow from its resting place on a stiff armchair. I knew none of the staff would be able to hear me, so I kept ranting at the furniture. "She wasn't in love with me! Why did I kid myself for so long? How could I have thought that she would still love me after all these years?" It had been nearly three weeks since Christine had rejected me, but I still could not believe it. If only I had not run into her tonight…

I poured myself another glass of brandy, then another, and another still.

I resumed my pacing and went over the evening's encounter for the millionth time. I had seen her leaving her old flat. I wrongly assumed she had come to her senses and left Erik, and was shocked to find her wearing a wedding ring – his wedding ring. She informed me that they had wed just last weekend. She spoke to me as if I were a child…

Suddenly my head began to feel light, and I stumbled back over to the couch.

"She chose him…she chose him…she chose him…" I must have repeated the phrase over and over until I fell into a dreamless sleep.

My next coherent memory occurred the following morning. A bright ray of light caused me to wince in pain.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" I shouted at the maidservant. "Haven't you got the decency to wait until I have awoken to open the blasted drapes?"

The petite blonde maid looked very frightened. She moved rapidly toward the drapes as though she were going to close them.

"It is all right," I said, trying to curb my anger. "You may leave them. I am sorry for my sudden outburst, mademoiselle. I was just startled by the sudden light." The truth is, my head was pounding and the light only made the pain more intense.

"It is all right, monsieur, you needn't apologize; it was my error. I didn't see you there," she said bashfully.

"Say, you're new here aren't you?" I asked, studying her quietly.

"Yes Monsieur de Chagny. I just started last week," she said, as though she was afraid I would snap at her again.

"Please, call me Raoul," I said gently, trying to show her that she needn't be afraid of me. "I have been very preoccupied this past week, and I have not been very observant. Forgive me for not introducing myself to you upon your arrival at the estate."

"It is all right, monsieur," she replied, loading my brandy glass from the night before onto a small serving tray.

She was fairly attractive, although it was hard to say for certain with her hair wound into a tight chignon and the dull maid's uniform hiding any figure she might have. She also was not very tall – she was much shorter than Christine. _Christine!_ Why did she keep entering my thoughts?

"What is your name?" I asked, trying to forget Christine.

"Elise Verlinden."

"Elise…" I mused.

"It was my mother's name," she said, looking down at her starched white dress.

"Your mother?"

"Yes, my father named me in her honor. She died giving birth to me."

"I am sorry."

"My father said she was beautiful…" she replied wistfully.

"I am sure she was."

"I am sorry monsieur. I must get on with my duties. I am sorry to have detained you from any appointments you may have this morning," she said hastily, as though she did not wish to speak any further of her mother. She gave me a stiff smile, and quickly exited the room.

I looked down at my rumpled attire, and decided I'd feel a lot better after a hot bath and a change of clothes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

It had been nearly six months since my last encounter with Christine. I made my appearances at the opera few and far between, for I feared running into Christine and her husband. Her husband…the words still sounded so foreign to me. I had come to terms with the fact that Christine was out of my life, but I do not think I will ever be able to accept that she is married to Erik.

Erik, the notorious Phantom of the Opera.

At first I did not believe he really existed. I thought my lovely Christine was hallucinating; there is no such thing as the Angel of Music. I soon realized she was not delusional – she really was receiving lessons from a mysterious teacher. Once she started disappearing for days at a time, I should have known there was something special about her tutor.

It seems he was deformed from birth; his mother showed him no affection and he ran away from home at a very young age. Mason, architect, assassin, magician, musician, composer…he was a man of many trades. It was no wonder Christine fell in love with him. Her kindness allowed her to see past his deformity and see the man beneath the white porcelain mask.

I tried to get her back. I tried to convince her that living under the opera with a deformed genius was not the proper life path for a vibrant young woman. For a while I thought my plan was working; she distanced herself from Erik and we became engaged, although it was apparent she still had feelings for her Angel of Music. I stupidly forced Christine to choose between the two of us, and she chose him.

My mother would have told me to fight; to win her over. She would have said "to hell with kismet; if you love her you must fight to be with her." I suppose that method worked for my mother. She had fought off gaggles of women to be with my father. I was never as ruthless as she or my brother. I took after my father; he had his pride and did not like losing, but would accept defeat rather than fighting to the death over something that was not meant to be. After all, aren't both parties supposed to be happy in a relationship? I'm sure I could have found a way to kill Erik, but that still would not have made Christine love me.

To get my mind off of Christine I had started taking long horseback rides alone through the countryside. The fresh air and the solitude helped clear my head. One day while I was out riding, I saw a young couple swimming in a small lake. They were obviously lovers forced to meet secretly, for she appeared to be the daughter of a wealthy nobleman, while he was a lowly blacksmith. As I watched them swim together, I realized how foolish I had been in trying to win Christine's heart. The wealthy girl was sure to be forced into an arranged marriage, but her heart would always belong to her beloved blacksmith. Had I stolen Christine away from Erik, I would have never had all of her love. I rode home with a new feeling of peace that day, and it was the first sign that my broken heart would someday be whole again.

I have always loved Paris in the winter; the fresh, white snow, the wisps of smoke rising from chimneys, the festive decorations. I walked down the icy streets, not heading any place in particular. I have always enjoyed roaming the streets around the holiday season; everyone is always in a good mood, anticipating the upcoming holiday parties.

I did not realize I was outside of the Paris Opera until I recognized an oddly familiar cloaked figure on the street parallel to me. Her small frame was outlined in a beautiful crimson cloak. The cloak alone must have cost a small fortune. I caught a glimpse of a matching crimson gown underneath the cloak, which seemed to be tailored exactly to her measurements, with the gold braided edging nearly touching the ground.

She looked as though she was waiting for someone. Perhaps she was waiting for Erik. I was not sure if I should say hello. It had been nearly a year since we had last spoken, but it may be too soon. Besides, I did not particularly want to run into Erik. I grabbed a newspaper from a nearby stand, and casually sat down on a bench. I held the newspaper up so I could just see Christine over the top of the black and white pages.

After observing her for several moments, I saw whom she was waiting for. It was a young boy, no more than ten years of age. He greeted her happily, and handed her a note. She seemed greatly disturbed after quickly reading the note. She handed the boy several francs, and began to walk quickly toward the far end of the Opera House.

It was not usually my hobby to play detective, but I was extremely curious to find precisely how to reach the underground home where Erik and Christine reside. Now you must understand, I did not intend to follow her at first, but as she rounded the corner to the alley, my curiosity betrayed me and I began to follow.

She ran quickly down the alley until she reached the gates of the Rue Scribe, which led to a series of underground passages. I knew that I must keep a good distance between us, so that she would not suspect that she had a follower; yet if I did not keep close enough, I would surely loose her and die trying to escape from these black passages.

I was beginning to think she was insane for running through the passages like she was, but then she reached a bridge. I knew I could not follow her across it; I would have to wait until she was on the other side. It did not take long until I was safely across, and I had caught up to her again. This time, she came out of the passages and led me to the banks of an underground lake. Knowing that Erik must be somewhere near, I quietly hid myself behind some reeds.

I watched a tall, lanky figure step out of a house on the far side of the lake. I knew from his catlike elegance that it was Erik. He got in a small boat and rowed across to Christine. He walked over to her and they kissed. I was within earshot, so I could hear them speaking.

"Hello my love," Erik greeted her warmly.

"Hello Erik," she answered quickly. "I received the note. I am afraid the news is not good."

"Come, we shall go inside and discuss this where it is warmer."

He gently lifted Christine into the boat, and I watched Erik gracefully row them across the lake from my hiding place. I knew the only way I could possibly get to them was by swimming across the lake. I waited until they were inside the house, then I darted toward the lake. I had no doubt that the lake was going to be very cold. I removed my jacket, for there was no reason to keep it on, and quietly waded into the dark icy water.

Luckily for me, the lake was not very large and I made it to the other side without much trouble. When I arrived, I was shivering. I looked around for some sort of covering, but all I could find was an old sheet. Quickly, I wrapped myself in the thin ivory sheet and crept towards some shrubbery underneath one of the windows.

Inside, I could hear Erik playing a piano, or at least, I guessed it was a piano. I was never very musically inclined. After a few bars, I heard him pause.

"Thank you angel," he said.

"Of course," Christine answered.

I raised my head so I could see out the window, and I saw Christine sitting in a chair next to the piano, where Erik was seated. They both had their backs to me, and I was hoping that they would not turn around.

"Now, what was this note all about?" he asked her.

"As I said before, the news was not good. It seems that Nadir has not yet returned from Persia. Darius is very worried about him."

"I am sure it is nothing to worry about. Nadir can take care of himself."

"I suppose you are right. Nadir is very worldly…" Christine replied.

Erik resumed playing the piano. By now, I was terribly cold. The water had completely penetrated through my skin, or so it felt. When I heard Christine's beautiful voice, I turned my attention back towards the window.

_In your eyes are my secrets that I've never shown you  
In my heart I feel I've always known you  
In your arms there's a comfort that I never knew  
You're what I've been waiting for, there's no one like you_

_Sure as the sunrise, pure as a prayer  
You fashioned hope right out of thin air  
Every dream I abandoned, seems it could come true  
I believe in miracles, there's no one like you_

_Innocent as a newborn in a world so frightening  
It's as if my world's been struck by lightning  
Every dream I abandoned, seems it could come true  
I believe in miracles, there's no one like you_

The moment Christine stopped singing, Erik took her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. He stood up and swept her into his arms, and gently placed her on the nearby sofa, where he began divesting her of the expensive gown. I have never been the voyeuristic type; however, I seemed to be frozen in place, unable to tear my eyes away from the display of passion on the other side of the window.

I watched as she not-so-innocently removed his clothing, and pulled his body on top of hers. My mind screamed at me to turn away as he penetrated her soft flesh, but I could not. I stared in both wonder and horror as she dug her nails into his back and softly called out his name, her voice dripping with desire. He pulled her body tightly to his, and thrust deeper into her until they both collapsed.

Once it was over, I lowered my head from the window and ducked into the shrubbery. The sheet had now soaked up the water from my clothes, and was probably not keeping me any warmer. I closed my eyes, trying to get the image of Erik and Christine out of my head.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Warmth surrounded my entire body. I felt light and cozy, as though I was floating on a cloud. Beautiful music filled my ears with happiness, and I slowly began to stir. After listening to several more bars of the heavenly music, I opened my eyes to see Christine. She was sitting by my side looking down at me, and for a moment, just a moment, I thought it had all been a terrible nightmare, and Christine was my wife. Then the music stopped and I crashed down to reality. Christine left my side and walked over to Erik, who had turned to face us. He must have been playing the beautiful music on the piano that had lifted me out of my coma.

"Christine," he said, "please bring some tea."

"Of course," she said softly, leaving the room.

After watching Christine disappear, Erik returned his attention to me. He slowly stood from the piano bench and walked to my side. I shivered and recoiled slightly as he put one of his bony fingers on my left wrist to check my pulse. Next, he put his hand on my forehead, and nodded with approval.

"A little rest and you'll be fine."

"How? What? W-What am I doing here?" I asked groggily, trying to remember what had happened.

"Obviously you followed Christine here."

I gave him a puzzled look.

"I went outside, and I saw you huddled in the bushes. At first, I thought you had died from hypothermia, but I saw you shivering and realized I was wrong. Knowing you were Christine's childhood friend, I could not leave you outside to expire; it would have made her terribly unhappy. I brought you inside, and you have been lying here for approximately eight hours," he explained, with an amazingly calm tone. I had surely thought he would be outraged with me for intruding.

"Do not expect me to save your life again. I do not save anyone's life more than once. I strongly suggest that you do not follow Christine here again," Erik continued.

"Thank you," I said, rubbing my forehead.

"It was nothing," he said casually, as if saving lives was his new career. "Now, I suppose you should eat something. It is not healthy to go on an empty stomach when you are ill."

I watched him disappear into the same room Christine had gone into. I closed my eyes again and tried to remember how I got here. I had been taking a walk…and then I saw Christine. Suddenly it all came back to me. I remembered the boy with the note, I remembered following her through the dark passages. The frigidness of the lake made me shiver again, and I pulled the multi-colored Persian blanket up to my chin. Christine had sung…and then…I opened my eyes and my heart started pounding. Had they seen me? Did they know what I saw? I mentally berated myself for watching their most private, intimate act. How could I have done such a thing? Why did I not turn away? What had compelled me to watch?

My head jerked up as Erik and Christine returned. Christine was carrying a tray with a pot of tea, three teacups, and several fresh crepes.

"Are you all right?" Erik asked, noticing my flushed complexion.

"Oh, yes…" I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "This blanket is very warm and I was starting to get hot," I lied, pushing the warm patch of fabric off my body. I swung my legs off the cushion of the couch and planted them firmly on the floor. I wanted to run in horror for fear that they knew I had seen them. The last thing I wanted to do was to admit to seeing their passion. I wiped my brow, and smiled weakly at the couple.

Christine gave me a queer look, and set the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. She poured me a cup of tea, set it down in front of me, and gestured at the crepes, all while avoiding eye contact. Erik helped himself to his own tea and crepes, and then resumed his position on the piano bench. Christine took her tea and crepe and sat in her well-worn chair next to the piano.

The three of us sat in silence. Erik kept studying my behavior, Christine seemed fascinated by a spot on the carpet, and I tried to look as relaxed as humanly possible. I felt a little stronger after I had eaten, and Erik once again checked my vitals with all the professionalism of a well-schooled physician.

Erik suggested that I go take a hot bath, for it would help keep my body warm. He said due to my extended exposure to the damp air, I still had a small risk of developing pneumonia. He helped me stand from the couch, and I was amazed at the sheer strength his lean frame exhibited. I realized he must have carried me inside, which was impressive, considering I am six feet three inches tall and weigh a good two hundred pounds. I had never recognized Erik's height until now. I am by no means a short man, but Erik towered over me. I estimated him to be at least three inches taller that myself. I recalled how muscular his arms and legs had been in his state of undress, and was immediately jealous of his well-defined abdominal section. I vowed that I would begin exercising more often upon my recovery.

As I followed Erik down the hallway, I noticed the open door at the end of hall. It was dimly lit by a gas lamp, but I could still make out the vibrant crimson and black color-scheme of the well-decorated bedroom. Again, I was instantly jealous of the large, impeccably made oak canopy bed. The black satin comforter looked as though one might slip right off if they were not planted firmly into their position. I cringed as I imagined Erik's body entwined with Christine's on top of the welcoming black satin. The deep red pillows and the darkness of the comforter seemed to be mocking me, for they regularly felt the heat that Christine's lovely body produced.

I returned my attention to the door Erik had opened for me. The room was also a bedroom, which was decorated in light pink. Judging by the feminine décor, I decided this must have been the room Christine used to stay in while she received her music lessons. Happy and carefree, the room seemed perfect for the young innocent I had always pictured Christine to be. After last night's display of desire, I did not see Christine as the young innocent anymore. She was a woman filled with needs, and the crimson and black room seemed to fit her desires perfectly. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Christine had probably not shared her passion with Erik in this room.

Erik led me through the bedroom and into an elegant cream-colored bathroom. He lit the tall, free-standing gas lamp in the corner, and gestured to the variety of bath soaps and oils.

"Use whatever you like. I will be right back with some clothing," he said, exiting the room.

It wasn't until that moment that I realized I was not in the clothes I had left my home in the day before. I was wearing a long royal blue robe. The robe must have belonged to Erik, for the hem grazed the tops of my feet and the sleeves were too long. Erik appeared in the doorway, and chuckled.

"I'm afraid I'm unusually tall; none of my clothes will fit you properly," he said with a shrug, as he placed a neatly folded pair of socks, trousers, and a shirt on the counter. "You can try these – I purchased them because they were advertised to be for tall men, but the trousers are too short and the shirt sleeves end midway down my arms. You may keep them if they fit. Luckily I have the means to have my clothing personally tailored," he added, as if to explain why his attire always looked so perfect.

I nodded dumbly and thanked him for the clothing, and he left me alone to bathe.

I filled the tub with hot water. So hot, I thought my skin was going to start falling off the way the meat of a perfectly cooked turkey falls away at the blade of a carving knife. I rested my head against the cold porcelain and appreciated the generous size of the claw-foot tub. Erik must have had the tub specially made, or perhaps he even made it himself, for the tub was so large I was able to stretch my long legs out completely and I still could not touch the other end. Ordinary tubs are too cramped for a man of my size to take a long, leisurely bath. I assumed Erik had a similar tub in his bathroom, and against my will I imagined he and Christine soaking together, enjoying the sweet fragrance of the many exotic oils Erik kept on hand.

My ears flooded with water as I held my breath and dunked my head under the scorching water. I held my breath as long as I could, and finally returned to the surface and gasped for air.

From my position in the tub, I could see my reflection in the partially steamed mirror above the sink. I barely recognized myself. Beads of water mixed with sweat dripped down my flushed face. My brown hair clung to my forehead, and I raked it back quickly with my fingers as a futile attempt to improve my appearance. I was not completely unfortunate-looking. I had taken after my mother's side of the family, looks-wise. My high cheekbones and perfect complexion would have made me look like my mother, but luckily my father's broad forehead and nose prevented me from looking too feminine. I was only twenty-five, but my haggard appearance made me look at least five years older than my true age.

"What happened?" I asked myself aloud. I knew I needed to make a life change. What I really needed was to meet someone…another woman. Upon seeing the passion that Erik and Christine shared, I knew that I could never dream of ever attempting to break them up. Christine was out of my life forever. It would be a miracle if should would ever be willing to be my friend, after I had invaded her privacy by following to her home. In all honesty, I was amazed that Erik was taking care of me. I had called him terrible things in the past, and had tried to convince Christine that he was an evil monster. I guess it goes to show how love can change one's perception. I was so blinded by my love for Christine that I did not realize that perhaps Erik is exactly the sort of man Christine needed in her life.

Who was I to think I could make Christine happy? I have no musical sense, I never realized that she had changed in the years while I was away, and I never recognized her needs as woman. I just didn't want someone else to have her.

My hands and feet were beginning to resemble the awful prunes my grandmother used to eat, so I slowly stood up and got out of the tub. The plush white bath towel was like everything else in Erik's home: extra long. I really needed to find out where Erik got so many items that accommodated tall people. After combing my hair, I again studied my appearance in the mirror. I looked a bit better after combing my hair back, but I still couldn't believe how old I looked. Although my face looked a bit heavier than normal, I was thankful the extra weight had not gone to my gut.

"Things have got to change," I told my reflection. "I need to start over again," I said confidently, putting my hands on my hips. As I stood naked, looking at myself in the mirror, I recognized that I still had potential to be the man of some woman's dreams. I tightened my stomach muscles and stood up straight. With a little more exercise, and perhaps less brandy, my appearance would definitely improve.

It was at that moment I realized why I had been unable to tear my eyes away from Erik as he made love to Christine; I was curious. Of course, I'd heard stories, but I'd never actually seen the act of love expressed right before my very eyes. During my travels many women had attempted to woo me, but I intended on saving myself for the woman I planned to marry; Christine. I am not at all ashamed of being a virgin at the age of twenty-five. I firmly believe that sexual acts should be shared between a man and a woman that are in love. Maybe I clung so desperately to Christine because I was anxious to fulfill my own sexual desires. Perhaps I just wanted to love her. I was so busy thinking of myself, I had never even thought of how I would satisfy her in return. I knew I would not have made Christine's body writhe in pleasure the way Erik does simply because I would have been so focused on myself. Women have desires, too! Sure, I was well endowed, but clearly I needed more than a well proportioned manhood to please a woman. Perhaps I had watched Erik and Christine as a kind of lesson. I recalled the way Erik focused entirely on Christine – he stroked her hair, kissed her passionately, and caressed every inch of her body.

"I will fall in love someday," I said aloud, not caring if anyone heard. "I will give myself to her entirely and make her the happiest woman in the world."

Utilizing my new-found hope, I put on the clothes Erik had provided and marched out to face Christine.

I walked into the room and found Christine sitting in her usual chair, reading. I wanted to say something to her, but what? What could I say? I knew she was furious at me. After all, I had followed her home. I still did not know if she was aware of what I had seen the night before. I was just about to apologize for intruding on her privacy, when Erik appeared and announced that dinner was ready.

I did not feel like eating, but Erik said that it would help get me better sooner. I knew better than to argue with Erik, so the three of us migrated into the kitchen and sat down at the table. There was plenty of hostility; I'll assure you of that. Christine was forced to sit next to me, for there were only three of us sitting at a round table. She did not speak to me, let alone look at me. I felt awful.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass very slowly. After dinner, we all returned to the sitting room where Erik played the piano. Erik was a wonderful musician. Christine had taken a seat on the floor, and rested her head on the edge of the piano bench. Her love for Erik was almost overwhelming. I tried to read the book that Erik had provided me with, but I could not help but watching the couple in awe. I watched as Christine dozed off into a pleasant slumber. Realizing that she was asleep, Erik gently picked her up, and carried her down the hall to their bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

Erik came back a while later, wearing black silk pajamas, covered with a matching black kimono, also made of silk. It did not take a genius to realize what had taken him so long to return. His face was still flushed, and he had a small smile upon his face. I was extremely thankful that Christine had kept quiet this time. At least I could pretend to be ignorant to Erik's blissful disposition – it was much less embarrassing for me to pretend I did not know what took him so long.

Erik had quietly resumed his seat at the piano, but before he could begin to play, I spoke.

"Thank you."

"What?" he asked, turning to face me.

"Thank you," I repeated.

"Yes, I heard you the first time, but what on earth for? I already gave you my reason for saving you."

"No, thank you for taking care of Christine."

"I love her," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"Yes," I sighed, "I know that now. I did not realize that before today. I thought that I loved her. Can you believe that? I thought that I loved her…"

"Yes, Raoul, you did love her – when you were a child. Christine has grown now. You have too. When you came back from Spain, you expected everything and everyone to be exactly the same. Things have changed. _You_ have changed. I don't quite think you realize that Christine is a grown woman. She is not Monsieur Daaè's little girl anymore."

"Why did I not see that she did not love me? I know she tried to tell me, but I still pursed her. How could I have been so ignorant?"

"Christine is like a crystal ball," Erik began. "You must know how to use a crystal ball properly to see into it. Christine is the same way. If you do not know her, you will not understand what she is saying to you. You do not know Christine anymore; you are still trying to read her as though she is the young girl you fell in love with. If you do not have the understanding to use a crystal ball, you will only be a poor gypsy boy staring at his own reflection and you will never understand what it is trying to tell you. I, who was taught by the great gypsy wise woman, have mastered the crystal ball, Raoul. I know Christine; I know her better than she knows herself at times. Perhaps one day you too will understand how a crystal ball works."

Erik was absolutely right and I already knew it. I needed to find a woman with whom I connected with. Someone who's soul I could see into like a crystal ball.

"Do not worry," Erik said after a moment. "I did not tell Christine."

"Tell her what?" I asked dumbly.

"Raoul," he continued, completely ignoring my question. "I did not tell my wife of your voyeurism to prevent her from feeling embarrassed. I am not at all embarrassed; however, I do not appreciate my privacy being violated in such a manner."

I looked at him blankly. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. How foolish am I? Of course the all-knowing Erik was aware that I had seen them making love. But how did he find out?

"I was not aware of your presence the entire time," Erik said, as though he was reading my mind with his crystal ball. "It was not until I saw your reflection in the face of the clock." Erik pointed to the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. I was sitting on the couch they had been on, and indeed, from that angle I had a perfect view of the window in the glass that covered the clock's face.

"By the time I noticed you, it was far too late for me to do anything," Erik continued.

I knew exactly what he meant. He did not want to stop and alert Christine of my presence. He must have waited until after she had gone to bed to come to my aid.

"You were half dead when I finally came out to get you. I told Christine that you must have passed out immediately upon reaching the house. I assured her that you could not have been conscious to witness our intimate moments; a small lie, monsieur, to keep her from feeling exposed and to save your pride."

I did not know what to say. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Erik knew that he had said all he needed to say, so he turned and began to play a beautiful piece of music I had never heard before.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

The next morning I felt much better. I had slept in Christine's old bedroom, which had been quite comfortable. The scent of her perfume still lingered on the comforter, which made me smile in sadness. She belonged to Erik and I think I had finally come to accept that. Rather than wasting my time reminiscing, I decided to get up and see if anyone else was awake.

I walked into the sitting room and found no one. I assumed that Erik and Christine were not awake yet, but I soon found out that I was wrong. A door opened and closed, and I heard footsteps coming towards me. Erik stepped into the room and looked in my direction. He was carrying a brown bag that I figured was full of food.

"Oh good, you are awake. Do you feel any better this morning?"

"Yes, I feel much better. I think I shall be able to go home today," I answered.

"Perhaps…" He looked around the room and asked, "Has Christine been out yet?"

"No, I have not seen her all morning."

"Hmmm…It is unlike her to sleep this late," he said, handing me the bag. "Please take this into the kitchen. I am going to make sure Christine is feeling all right." He walked down the hallway, into the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

I went the opposite direction into the kitchen. I took all of the items out of the bag and I considered putting everything away, but thought the better of it. I didn't want Erik to think I was snooping through his home.

I returned to the sitting room to find Erik escorting Christine down the hall. She was fully dressed, and I assumed that she must have been waiting for Erik to come home.

"Good morning, Raoul. I trust you slept well?" she inquired with a hostile tone.

"Yes, thank you for asking," I replied politely. I hated the enmity. I wanted to make peace with Christine. Erik, my former arch enemy, was at least being civil, for heaven's sake!

"Erik, may I have a moment alone with Christine?" I asked.

Erik glanced briefly at Christine. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and replied, "Of course."

If looks could kill, I believe both Erik and I would be dead and buried. Christine quite obviously did not want to have anything to do with me, and had hoped Erik would throw me out as soon as possible. Erik went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, and left Christine and I alone to talk.

Christine sat down on the couch. She folded her hands in her lap and looked up at me.

"Christine, I want to apologize for following you. I don't know what came over me. It had been so long since I had seen you and…well, I don't know what I was thinking. I don't think there are any words I could possibly say that could express how truly sorry I am. I have realized that you love Erik with all of your heart and soul and there is no place for me in your life. I would like you to somehow find it in yourself to accept my apology."

Christine appeared to be contemplating her response. I sat nervously on the edge of the couch, as far away from her as possible.

"Raoul, I never thought that you would stoop so low as to follow me to my home. The last time we spoke I thought I made it clear to you that I am Erik's wife. Had you been more mature and tried to talk to me I may have listened. However, you followed me instead. I know Erik well enough to recognize when I am being lied to."

She folded her arms across her chest and continued, "I know what you saw. Erik told me that you must have passed out upon your arrival, but I could tell he was only trying to protect me. I feel extremely violated and I do not think I will ever be able to trust you again. Not only did you follow me like some sort of stalker, you also spied on my husband and me. That is not acceptable." She looked me straight in the eye and waited for my response.

"I don't know what came over me. Please Christine, you have to understand that I did not get some sick pleasure from watching you. If anything, it made me realize that your heart completely belongs to Erik. Had I not passed out I would have left immediately and never returned. Believe me, I have punished myself mentally for my own behavior and although your hostility is appropriate, I would like to overcome this and you have to forgive me."

"You expect me to forgive you just like that?" Christine exclaimed, standing angrily. "Raoul, I am not a child anymore and I'm not going to forgive you just because you look at me with those big brown eyes of yours and say you're sorry. I don't have to forgive you and at this moment I chose not to."

She stormed furiously down the hall and into her bedroom. I cringed as she slammed the door, which caused a painting to fall off the hall wall. Erik must have heard the commotion, for he appeared in the room and approached me violently.

"What did you say to her?" he demanded, balling his right hand into a fist.

"I tried to apologize," I said, standing up. I was eye to eye with the masked man and I had never been more afraid in my life. "I told her how sorry I was for invading her privacy and I asked her to forgive me. She said she wasn't a child and she didn't feel the need to accept my apology. Please…" I begged, "I didn't say anything to hurt her."

Erik relaxed a bit and backed off.

"You will never learn will you?" he said, shaking his head. "You are still treating Christine like a child. You never should have asked for her forgiveness."

He glanced down the hall at the closed door before sitting down on the couch.

"What can I say about Christine…she's been treated like a child all of her life. She was forced to accept her father's death, forced into the corps de ballet at the opera, and you tried to force your love upon her. I think for once she would like to be given a choice. Had you simply apologized and left it at that, her kind heart probably would have forgiven you. Instead, you tried to tell her what to do. I have shown Christine to be confident in herself. She is an independent woman and does not need you, or anyone else for that matter, telling her what to do. I think perhaps it would be best if you ate some breakfast and went home."

"You're probably right," I agreed. I had made a big enough mess of things. Maybe Erik would be able to talk calm Christine down.

Erik and I ate a quick breakfast, and he prepared to take me across the lake. Just as we were about to leave, Christine emerged from the bedroom. She walked up to me and began to speak.

"Raoul, you have hurt me more than I can say and I am unsure if I will ever be able to trust you again. That being said, I would like to come to an understanding with you. Perhaps someday we can be friends again, but for now you need to live your own life and forget about me."

She gave me a small hug, and quickly left.

"She would have never forgiven herself had you left before she got the chance to speak her mind," Erik said, smiling slightly.

"She most certainly has changed," I sighed. "Maybe I needed this to happen to me so **I** could grow up, too."

Erik said nothing, but in his eyes, I knew he agreed. I did need to grow up.

I followed Erik in obedient silence as he led me through the corridors up to ground level. He must have taken a longer, more complicated path than Christine had, because it took nearly twice as long as Christine's route. He surely did this in an attempt to confuse me in case I should ever decide to pop in on them again.

"Be sure to get plenty of rest," Erik instructed me as we reached the alley behind the gates of the Rue Scribe. "You could have died, and I do not want you to think that you are as you were before you came down here. You are still not in perfect health, so get some rest."

I expected to hear threats and warnings about what might happen to me should I venture down beneath the opera again, but I did not. Erik simply put me in a carriage and sent me home. Somehow I knew it would not be our last meeting.

Ordinarily after even one night away from home, I found nothing more comforting than the warmth of my own bed. Tonight, however, my bedroom felt cold and empty. I tossed and turned as I tried to get to sleep. After an hour of trying to get comfortable, my comforter was half-off the bed and my sheets were a tangled mess. I remade the bed and headed downstairs to seek the warm familiarity of a large glass of brandy.

I was somewhat surprised to see the outline of a woman sitting in front of the fireplace in the living room.

"Oh, good evening Monsieur de Chagny," a semi-familiar voice said. "I did not expect you to be awake at this hour. I will leave you in peace."

I recognize the woman to be Elise. Although she had been employed in my home for quite some time, I still did not know her well at all. She was not in her usual maid attire; she was wearing a long pale pink bathrobe and slippers, and her long hair cascaded around her shoulders. By the light of the fire she looked pretty in a classic sort of way.

She started to get up, but I insisted that she stay.

"Please, I have not really gotten much of an opportunity to get to know you. Would you like anything to drink?" I offered, gesturing to the bar.

"No thank you, monsieur," she answered politely.

"How many times must I tell you, call me Raoul, and I have a bottle of Port here I think you might enjoy," I said, pulling the cork from an extremely expensive bottle of wine. My late brother would have had a heart attack if he saw me sharing a costly bottle of Port with the help. I decided wine would be a much more appropriate thing to offer a woman than a glass of brandy.

I filled two small Port glasses and brought one over to Elise. She smiled shyly as she took her glass from me. I sat a safe distance away, and offered a toast.

"To finding yourself," I said, as I raised my glass.

"To finding yourself," she whispered as she clinked her glass against mine.

After a moment of awkward silence, I commented on the fine quality of the Port.

"Yes, it is wonderful," Elise replied. "Although I'm afraid I haven't had much exposure to fine wines, and I've never had Port before."

"Oh? Surely a lovely lady such as yourself is constantly being wined and dined on your nights off."

"No," she answered, looking back at the fire.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, noticing her troubled expression.

"I don't think you want to hear about it."

"It would be nice to get my mind off of my own troubles for once. Tell me what is on your mind, Elise."

She composed her thoughts for a moment and then sat more upright to face me.

"I did have a beau once; his name was Matthew. He was a wonderful man! He took me to fine restaurants and gave me lovely presents. I fell in love with him quite quickly, which was my mistake. I should have known better. After just three short months he stopped seeing me. He didn't even bother to tell me, he just kept making excuses saying he couldn't see me because he had to work late or because he had to go on a business trip. Finally one of his friends told me that Matthew did not want to see me again and that he already had a new lady. I was heartbroken. It took me quite a while to get over him. Then just last week I ran into him and he told me how much he missed me and said he'd like to come calling on me again. He will not leave me alone and I do not want to see him. I don't know what to do."

"Have you told him you don't want to see him?"

"Yes," she said angrily, "but that just makes him try harder." She stood up less gracefully than I had expected her to, and helped herself to another glass of the highly concentrated wine. "I told him I was not interested, and the next day he sent me a dozen roses."

"Did you send them back?" I asked.

"No, they were too lovely!" she exclaimed sheepishly. "I thought about tearing off all the petals and sending them back to him, but I couldn't do it. The flowers hadn't done anything wrong."

"I suppose you're right. Perhaps if one of the other staff members told him to leave he would listen," I offered.

"No, that won't work. Matthew is far too stubborn. It's like he thinks he is heaven sent and that he can have any woman he pleases. Well he already had his chance and he blew it!"

It was refreshing to listen to someone else's problems and I was amused at how freely she spoke. I could tell she did not drink much alcohol, for after a glass and a half of Port she was talking to me as if we were old friends.

"What would you do, Raoul?" she asked, squinting her eyes at me. She rested her head on her hand and waited for my answer.

"I'm afraid I used to have the opposite problem," I sighed. "I used to love a woman I had no chance with."

"Christine Daaè?" she asked in the smallest tone.

"How did you know?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Well, your staff used to talk intensely about your obsession with Mademoiselle Daaè. Please, do not be angry with me for saying this. I did not take part in these conversations, for I did not know you or Mademoiselle Daaè. I just could not help overhearing their unkindly words."

"Unkindly words?" I asked irritably.

"Yes, they say very cruel things about her."

"Such as?"

"They would say things like 'Christine Daaè! Raoul is far too good for that pathetic little whore' and things similar to that."

"I am afraid they are wrong about Christine," I sighed, staring into the fire. "She is a very kind, sweet woman. I still love her dearly as friend, but I know she will never love me in return. She is happily married and no one can take her happiness away now."

"Married? Christine Daaè is married?" she asked, sounding very surprised.

"Yes," I sighed, "She is married…Please; I would not like to discuss Christine any longer."

"I understand," she said sympathetically.

"We still have your problem to solve," I reminded her, after topping off her glass and filling up my empty glass. "Could you possibly tell this Matthew fellow that you're seeing someone else? Perhaps then he'd leave you alone."

"No, I don't think that would work. He would probably want to see with his own eyes that I have a lover…I mean beau, yes, that's the proper term," she said, giggling.

"That does present a problem…" I mused, as I paced across the room.

"You could be my lover!" she exclaimed, standing up. She threw her body against me and caused my wine to slosh out of the glass and on to her pink robe.

"Oh," she laughed, looking at the red stain. "Now look what I did. This is why Matthew never took me out for wine; I end up loosing my coordination!"

She struggled out of the wine-soaked robe and stumbled backward on to the couch and began to laugh. She was only wearing a flimsy chemise and was obviously intoxicated; many men would have seen her as prey. He bright eyes sparkled in the firelight, and her laughter made her face light up. I easily could have taken advantage of her right there and fired her the next day, but I immediately dismissed the idea. I genuinely liked Elise, not as a lover, but as a friend. She had so freely shared her troubles with me, and I appreciated her for that. I filled my glass again and gulped it down before I sat down beside her.

"Could you imagine?" she asked, laughing even harder. "You as my lover? He would never believe it anyway!"

"Why is that?"

"Because you're…you're…you know…wealthy and I work for you."

"Yes, but we could tell him that we're secret lovers and that we're going to run away together," I said, feeling the Port starting to affect my brain.

"Oh yes! We can say we're already secretly married…and…oh dear…I don't feel so well…"

Elise's complexion turned pale and she passed out in my lap. I knew Pauline, Elise's roommate, would not be happy to find Elise passed out in their bedroom from intoxication. Pauline was more than likely to turn her in to the head maid for misconduct, and I did not want to see Elise fired on my account. I put the soiled pink robe over my shoulder, picked up Elise, and hauled her upstairs to my bedroom. I tucked her carefully in to my bed, and prepared for an uncomfortable night's sleep on the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning I awoke to find Elise sleeping soundly in my bed. She looked so comfortable; I couldn't bear to wake her. As quietly as possible, I grabbed some clothes from my bureau and dressed quickly in my bathroom. I did not want her to get in any trouble for not reporting to Dorice, the head maid, so I dashed downstairs to find the cranky old woman.

I found Dorice downstairs in the living room cleaning up the mess Elise and I had made the night before.

"Good morning, Dorice," I said brightly.

"Good morning, Monsieur," she replied, giving me a queer look as she held up the two small Port glasses.

"Ah, yes, the wine. I'm afraid I invited an old friend of mine over last night after the staff was off duty and we had a bit too much to drink."

"Oh?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Yes my old friend Claude, he went home rather belligerent, I hope me made it all right," I lied, laughing nervously. 

My answer must have sufficed, for she huffily changed the subject. 

"Well, in case you have not noticed, we are a bit short-staffed this morning. This mess would have been cleaned up by now had Elise reported in."

"Yes, Elise, I'm afraid that was my doing. I was up quite early and found her in the kitchen and asked her to run a few errands for me since I don't feel one hundred percent today. I may have had a tad too much wine. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh…" Dorice paused for a moment, clearly caught off-guard by story. "Well, I do wish you would have consulted me first. I could have sent someone more capable. Elise is, shall we say, a bit flighty. She generally does good work, but sometimes I think her head is in the clouds."

"I am quite certain that she will be able to handle everything," I assured Dorice. "Now I must be getting upstairs. I have a bit of a headache and would not like to be disturbed."

"As you wish, Monsieur de Chagny," Dorice replied, giving me a small curtsy.

Before I headed upstairs, I snuck in to the laundry room to grab Elise a fresh uniform. I peeked out into the hallway and once I determined that the coast was clear, I rushed back upstairs to my bedroom. Elise was still asleep, so I carefully placed the clean clothes at the edge of the bed, and sat down in my armchair with a book.

I had read about ten pages when I was interrupted by a loud crash. I lowered the book and saw Elise crumpled in a heap on the floor.

"Ouch," she cried, sitting up. "What the…how?" She looked around the room and as soon as she spotted me in the chair and frantically pulled a blanket over her chest.

"Oh please tell me I didn't do anything stupid," she moaned, and she climbed off the floor and sat nervously on the edge of the bed. "We didn't…" she asked, gesturing at the bed.

"No, nothing at all happened," I guaranteed her. "You had a little too much wine and I did not want Pauline to report you so I took you upstairs to sleep and -" 

"Yes but what about Dorice?" she interrupted in a panic. "She will have my head when she finds me! I am supposed to report to her at nine o'clock every morning!"

"It's all right; I've taken care of everything. I spoke to Dorice and I told her that I found you early this morning and asked you to run some errands for me since I am not feeling well. It would not be right for you to get trouble on account of me. It was nice having someone to talk to."

A look of relief spread across Elise's face. She flopped backwards onto the bed and sighed.

"I hope I didn't do or say anything to make myself look like a complete idiot," she said, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"You laughed a lot," I replied.

"That's what happens when I have wine! Matthew once told me – Matthew! I told you all about him, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"I remember now, I told you how he keeps pestering me and then I said…oh…please forgive me." She sat up and looked me dead in the eye. "I hope you don't think that I was implying anything when I said you could be my lover. I only meant it as a joke," she said solemnly.

"I wouldn't have taken it any other way. Besides, you may have something there. What if the next time Matthew shows up we put on a little show for him? You know, I could pretend to be your beau. Perhaps then he might leave you alone."

"Maybe that would work," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Do you think it would really discourage him? It would be fun to at least try."

"I'd be willing to give it a shot if you are. And I want to assure you I have no underlying motives, either. I would simply like to help out my new friend."

"Your new friend…wow, it's amazing how insomnia and a bottle of wine can bring people together!" she laughed.

"You're right," I said. "I think we both needed someone to talk to."

"I know I did. I'm glad I've gotten to know you. You're not anything like people say, you know. A lot of people seem to think you're this stuck-up rich guy that thinks he's better than everyone else. Just for the record, I've never thought that. I think you've been kind of misunderstood, and you're a great guy. No snobby man I know would have ever had wine with the staff, and if he did, I would have ended up being taken advantage of and without a job the next day."

"I'm glad at least someone likes me for who I am. So anyway, when is Matthew due to visit you?"

"Hmm, I think he said something about stopping by this evening. Tonight is my night off, so I'm sure he's going to try to take me out."

"Well then, as soon as you get off duty I want you to change into your finest dress and meet me downstairs. We shall show Matthew that you are unavailable, to him anyway, and then I shall take my new friend out for a fine meal."

"That sounds wonderful but promise me one thing, Raoul."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Don't let me drink too much wine again."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

That afternoon I decided to get out of the house and get some exercise. I knew Erik would have told me to take it easy, so I went for a brisk walk around the estate grounds. Since I was not completely worn out by the time I got back inside, I did as many sit-ups as I could manage before collapsing into a warm bath. 

"I've really got to get a bigger tub," I said aloud, as I climbed out of the bathtub and dried myself off. I decided that first thing Monday morning I would go in search of an extra-long bathtub.

As I began to dress, I started to wonder how the evening would turn out. I really liked Elise, but in a completely platonic sort of way. Pretending to pretending to be her beau, or lover as she put it, made me nervous. We had to put on a good enough act to get Matthew to believe that we were a couple, and I knew that meant close contact and possibly even a kiss. This may sound odd, but I really did not want to have to kiss her. She is attractive, witty, and has a great sense of humor, but I am not physically attracted to her at all. The thought of having to kiss her on the lips reminded me of having to kiss my cousin. I shuddered as I put on my dress coat.

"I'll do what I have to do, she is my friend, after all," I told myself. "This should be interesting…"

I headed downstairs to wait for Elise to get off duty. 

After about fifteen minutes, Elise appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing a maroon evening dress, complete with a small string of pearls and matching earrings. Her dress was not nearly as expensive as any of Christine's, but its simplicity suited her well. Her dark blonde hair was done up in a fancy chignon, with several loose tendrils framing her face. It was no wonder Matthew was attracted to her, but I, on the other hand, still didn't feel anything.

She walked apprehensively into the room.

"Good evening," I said, giving her a bow.

"Hello," she said, smiling shyly.

There were several moments of awkward silence. 

"Um, Raoul?" she said finally.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking, and I know you agreed to go along with this, but you could still change your mind. I mean, if it's too uncomfortable," she said, fiddling with her necklace.

"I don't mind…are you uncomfortable with this?" I asked. 

"Well, no…I mean, not exactly. I was just thinking about it and like I said earlier, you're a great guy, it's just…" she shifted her eyes downward.

"You're not physically attracted to me." I finished.

"Oh you're perfectly handsome, but…"

"I know exactly what you mean. You're quite beautiful, but I think we'd make better friends than anything else."

"Oh good, I'm glad you agree!" she exclaimed, looking very relieved. "I was thinking about it earlier and kissing you would be like kissing my brother or something!"

"I was thinking that kissing you would be like kissing my cousin," I replied after laughing heartily.

"But we might have to, you know," she said, cringing. "Matthew is the 'I won't believe it until I see it,' type, so we're going to have to pretend to really like each other."

"I was thinking as much, but only if it's the last resort, agreed?" I asked, extending my right hand.

"Agreed," she said as she firmly shook my hand.

We talked and laughed for about a half hour, when Pauline, Elise's roommate appeared in the room.

"Well, what's this?" Pauline asked, eyeing both of us warily.

"Oh…well, I invited Elise to dinner to thank her for doing some personal errands for me this morning," I replied nervously.

Pauline gave Elise the eye of death, and marched angrily out of the room.

"Oh no…" Elise moaned. "Now she's really going to hate me. I don't know why, but she's never liked me."

"Why not?" I asked. 

Before Elise could answer, the doorbell rang. 

"That would be Matthew," Elise said. She grudgingly got up and headed toward the front door. We had decided that she would try to get rid of him on her own, and if necessary, I would make an appearance.

"Good evening, my darling," I heard Matthew say. His voice sounded somewhat dull and boring. I could tell just by his voice that he was not the right man for Elise – she needed someone with excitement and passion in his voice.

"Hello Matthew," Elise replied emotionlessly. 

"Well aren't you going to invite me inside? Or are you prepared to go out? You look great, I might add."

"Matthew, how many times must I tell you that I'm not interested? Besides, I already have a date for the evening."

"I know you do, that's why I am here," Matthew said, trying to sound exciting.

"No, I'm not going out with you; I'm going out with Raoul."

"Raoul de Chagny? Please, Elise, I'm not falling for that one. You may as well say you're courting the King of England."

I really did not like Matthew. I knew Elise was right, and the only way to get him to go away was for me to rescue her. Inhaling deeply, and marched into the front hall.

"Elise, my dear, you look positively stunning," I said, taking her by the hand and twirling her around.

"Thank you, Raoul" she said, with a huge smile spreading across her face.

"And who might you be monsieur?" I asked, turning to face Matthew.

"I am Elise's date for the evening," he said firmly. 

Before I replied to his bold statement, I studied him for a moment. He was a shorter man; I doubted he was even six feet tall. He had sandy blonde hair that was in desperate need of a trim, a large nose, and his cheeks and forehead were riddled with acne. He did not look at all like someone Elise would have ever been attracted to in the first place.

"I believe you are mistaken, monsieur," I said, wrapping my arm around Elise's slender waist. 

"I don't believe this," Matthew said suspiciously. "Why would you be courting one of your staff members?"

"Elise is a charming young lady," I replied simply.

I felt Elise nudge me gently in the ribs. 

"I don't want to be late for our reservation," Elise said quickly. "Wait here, darling, while I go fetch our coats."

This was it; we really had to prove to Matthew that we were a couple. Elise had just said the code we made up. We decided that she'd only say it if she felt it was absolutely necessary for me to kiss her.

"Of course dear," I said. I pulled her close to me and kissed her firmly on the lips. 

Nothing; there was no spark, no sudden attraction. Quickly, I prayed that she didn't feel anything either. She pulled away gently and sauntered off to get our coats. 

I glanced back at Matthew, who was speechless for the first time since Elise had opened the door.

"Monsieur, I would appreciate it if you would remove yourself from the premises," I said coldly. "Since Elise clearly has no interest in you, I suggest you leave her be or I will forced to take action to ensure you stay off my property," I snarled, moving toward him.

I hated to admit it, but I had learned a thing or two about being hostile from both Erik and Christine. I was never good at telling one off, but I remembered how Erik had threatened me to stay away from Christine. I also remembered the coldness in Christine's voice as she told me she would never trust me again.

Between the kiss and my unfriendliness, Matthew had clearly gotten the message. He backed away from the doorstep.

"I'm sorry…I-I honestly didn't know…tell Elise I said goodbye," he nearly tripped over himself as he hastily headed back toward his waiting carriage.

I closed the door and waited for Elise to come back.

"We did it!" I exclaimed as she returned.

"Really? He's really gone?" she asked eagerly, running to the window.

Upon seeing his carriage disappearing into the night, Elise squealed in delight. She turned around and tackled me with a giant hug. Her enthusiasm was contagious; I picked her up and swung her around and laughed.

"Thank you so much!" she cried, as I put her down. "This really is something to celebrate."

"Absolutely," I replied, as I put on my coat.

I decided to take Elise to Les Elysees du Vernet, a stylish restaurant in the heart of Paris. The restaurant is classy but not at all pretentious, and I knew she would appreciate that. 

Upon our arrival I ordered two glasses of celebratory wine. The waiter tried his best to convince me to order an entire bottle, but I assured him that the two glasses would suit us perfectly. I had promised Elise that things would not get out of hand tonight, and I planned on keeping that promise.

Due to the medium-priced entrees, I knew I was not likely to see anyone of a higher-society that I might know. It's not that I was ashamed of being out with Elise, but I knew rumors would spread quickly and I did not want to give Elise a bad reputation.

"This place is very nice," Elise said, taking in the atmosphere. 

"I hoped you would like it here. Order anything you like – it's my treat," I said, gesturing to the menu. "I highly recommend the rack of lamb, the meat falls right off the bone."

"Ohh…everything looks so delicious," she replied excitedly. After she carefully read a description of each entrée, she decisively announced, "I will have the veal marsala."

"A fine choice," I replied. "I just can never get past that rack of lamb when I come here."

After the waiter returned with our glasses of wine and took our orders, Elise raised her glass and made a toast.

"To getting rid of Matthew!"

"To getting rid of Matthew," I cheered.

"Oh, and to making new friends," she said, smiling at me.

"I'll drink to that," I said, and took another gulp.

"I have a question," Elise said, putting down her glass. "What did you mean by your toast last night? 'To finding yourself?'"

"It has a lot to do with Christine…" I answered softly. 

Elise's quizzical expression softened a bit, and she gestured her hand as though she wanted me to continue.

"I may as well start from the beginning," I said with a heavy sigh. I sat back in my chair and began my tale. 

"Christine and I used to be the best of friends as children. We were inseparable – we used to camp in her father's attic, have picnics on the beach, explore the woods…we did everything together. I used to think that I would end up marrying her. When I was fourteen my brother and I went on an expedition to Spain, but I kept writing to Christine and thought of her every day. When I returned to France, I searched everywhere for her, and finally found that she was in the corps de ballet at the Paris Opera. Naturally, I offered to patronize the opera so I could see Christine. My God what a beautiful woman she had become! I had never dreamed of how gorgeous she would be as an adult. When I first approached her she said something about her music teacher, but being the stubborn ox that I know I am, I continued to pursue her. I actually thought I was getting somewhere, for she allowed me to court her for several months and when I proposed to her I was too blind to see that she wasn't really in love with me; she was trying to distance herself from Erik, her overzealous music teacher."

The waiter could not have picked a better time to bring out our meal. I was getting a bit emotional, and needed to take a rest before I finished the story. Elise seemed to understand, for she did not prod me to continue once the waiter had left. Instead, she eagerly picked up her silverware and began to eat. We both ate in silence for several moments before I began to speak again. 

"I'm sorry for the pause; I just needed to organize my thoughts."

"I don't mind," she answered, after swallowing a mouthful of food. "I know this must be hard for you. Take your time."

Her sweet smile put me at ease. I knew she wasn't going to judge me, so I continued.

"I should have known that Christine and I weren't meant to be when she told me she wanted a secret engagement. If she truly loved me, why would she want to hide our love? I figured that Erik had threatened her, so I came up with a plan to get Erik out of the picture completely. Christine begged me not to go through with the plan, but I didn't give her much of a choice. In the end, though, my plan backfired when I gave Christine an ultimatum. She chose to be with Erik over me. Foolishly, I convinced myself that she was being brainwashed and I tried to talk her out of it. Erik pretty much threatened to end my life then and there if I did not leave, so I left, but I was determined to get Christine back."

"He threatened your life?" Elise gasped, brining her napkin to her mouth in horror. "What sort of man does such a terrible thing?"

"Erik is no ordinary man…" I didn't want to lie to her, so I made her promise not to tell anyone else what I was about to say.

"Raoul, I promise," she said solemnly, and leaned in closer to hear me better.

"I am sure you have heard tales about the Phantom that haunts the Paris Opera."

"Oh yes," she replied, nodding her head eagerly.

"Remember, this must remain between us…Erik and the Phantom are one and the same."

I watched as her eyes grew wide with surprise. She gestured frantically for me to continue.

"I knew Erik would make good on his threat, so I left immediately. I was not necessarily afraid of him because he was the famous Opera Ghost, I was afraid because he had taken the woman I loved away from me and I feared I would never see her again."

"Still, though, he shouldn't have threatened you. Although I guess that's what ghosts do," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "So what happened after you left?"

"Our final showdown had taken place in a graveyard, so I hid out of sight and waited for Erik and Christine to leave so I could follow them. Erik must have anticipated this, for multiple carriages exited the graveyard simultaneously, and I never figured out which one carried Erik and Christine. I don't know what I would have done had I actually been able to follow them. I tried to find where they lived, but I failed miserably. I knew it was somewhere under the opera, but I could never get past the image of Joseph Buquet hanging from a noose out of my head, so I never ventured below ground. Oh, I'm sorry," I said, noticing the look of disgust on Elise's face. "I guess corpses aren't an appropriate subject for the dinner table."

"Not really, but continue," she replied after taking a sip of water.

"Anyway, about three weeks after Christine rejected me, I ran into her. She was leaving her old flat, and of course I jumped to the conclusion that she had left Erik and would be returning to me. It was a slap in the face when she told me that she and Erik had been married and she was turning the keys to her flat over to the new owner."

"Oh Raoul," Elise said, reaching out to squeeze my hand in a sisterly kind of way.

"That was the night before you and I first met."

"You mean when you screamed at me for opening the drapes?"

"Yes, now maybe you can understand why I was so upset."

"I thought it also had something to do with all the brandy you had consumed," she said, chuckling.

"That was also a part of it," I conceded. "After that night I did my best to try to put Christine out of my head. I started riding, and little by little the pain of loosing her began to lessen. I never thought I would be able to accept the fact that she was with Erik. I have to confess - I did something very stupid three days ago, however. I saw Christine and followed her home. Don't look at me like that, I just couldn't help myself," I said, noticing her raised eyebrows.

"I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing. If I were that obsessed with someone I probably would have followed them, too."

"Obsessed!" I objected. "I wasn't obsessed I was just…"

"You were what?" she prodded.

"Just because we're friends doesn't give you the right to call me obsessed!" 

"All right then, I take it back. But if you weren't obsessed, what were you?"

My mind went blank. Maybe she was right, maybe I was obsessed. It sure sounded better than crazy, insane, or mad.

"Fine, I was obsessed," I muttered bitterly. "Do you want me to finish the story, or not?"

"Yes, but don't get your knickers in a bunch about it. I already apologized for calling you obsessed." I could tell she wanted to add "but I was right" at the end of her sentence, and even though she was right, I'm glad she didn't say it.

I didn't know how to tell her the next part. I knew even someone as carefree and non-judgmental as Elise would have a slight problem with my voyeurism, so I decided to leave that part of the story out.

"I had to swim across a nearly-frozen lake to get to the house, and I ended up passing out in the bushes. Erik found me and for some miraculous reason nursed me back to health. He showed me far more hospitality than Christine did. While I was there I saw them interact as husband and wife, and I realized that they were truly meant to be together. I also realized that maybe I wasn't in love with Christine, maybe I just wanted to have a woman by my side and Christine seemed like the easiest choice. I never treated her like a grown woman; I treated her like the little girl I used to be best friends with. I became at peace with the situation, and I stupidly told Christine to forgive me."

"Wait, you _told_ her to forgive you?" Elise interrupted. "Take this little piece of advice, Raoul. Women aren't fond of being told what to do. I know this is a male-dominated society and women are not seen as equals, but we are humans and deserve to be treated with a little bit of respect."

"I know," I sighed. "Erik said something similar."

"Really? I am gaining more respect for the Opera Ghost. First he takes you in and nurses you back to health, and then he stands up for women? I think he made up for threatening your life."

"Anyway," I said, clearing my throat, "your original question was about the meaning of the toast I made last night. Before I left, Christine told me that she may never trust me and that maybe someday we'd be friends again. Then she said I need to forget about her and get to know myself. That's why I toasted 'to finding yourself,' because that's what I need to do."

"It all makes sense now," Elise said after a moment. "I think you're toast was very appropriate for the both of us."

"For both of us?"

"Yes," she said, casting her eyes downward. "I wouldn't mind finding myself, either."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's face it, being a maid isn't exactly a woman's dream job. I also pictured myself doing something glamorous or exciting."

"Like what?"

"I always wanted to dance. I took lessons right up until my family moved to Paris two years ago. I haven't danced since; my mother got a job at an estate and had me help her, which led me to the job at your home. I know it's been a few years, but I'm sure with the proper training I could pick up right where I left off."

"You may have something there," I said, stroking my clean-shaven chin. "I do still patronize the opera, you know. Perhaps I could talk to Madame Giry, she is always looking for promising young dancers."

"You would really do that for me?" she exclaimed.

"Of course I would."

"This calls for a celebration! I am going to have the biggest dessert this place can make!"

"Sounds fine with me," I said, looking for our waiter.

"I'd better eat it now because soon I'll have to start watching my weight so I can fit into gorgeous ballet costumes," she said excitedly.

I waived down our waiter and told him to bring out the two largest pieces of chocolate cake he could find.

Elise picked up her glass of water and raised it in the air.

"To finding ourselves, together," she said cheerfully.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Chapter 7

The next morning I got up and wrote down a list of things to do. The list included items such as finding a larger bathtub, seeking a tailor, and most importantly, talking to Madame Giry about Elise.

When I went downstairs to leave, I peeked into the kitchen to see Elise in the middle of a staff meeting where Pauline was glaring at her. Elise really didn't fit in with the other girls; she would fit in much better with the bubbly girls in the corps de ballet. In fact, she reminded me a lot of Meg Giry, they would most certainly become fast friends.

I didn't have any luck finding a new bathtub, but I did find an excellent new tailor. He said he'd have several new outfits ready for me by the end of the week. My next stop was the opera, and I was somewhat nervous. I didn't want Erik to see me and think I was trying to find Christine again. Boldly, I marched through the main entrance and went straight to Madame Giry's office.

"Monsieur de Chagny, how good to see you," Madame Giry said when she opened her office door.

"The pleasure is all mine, Madame," I replied, brining her hand to my lips and kissing it softly.

"What can I do for you?" she asked as she sat down in her leather chair behind her desk.

The desk was cluttered with sketches of costumes, fabric samples, choreography notes, sheets of music, and other miscellaneous papers. I noticed a letter with familiar handwriting in red ink. It was from Erik. I wondered if he had mentioned anything about my little visit. I put all thoughts of trying to read the letter out of my head, and focused on why I was here.

"I actually came here to ask you a small favor," I began as I sat down across from her.

"Yes?" she said, narrowing her dark brown eyes at me.

"Oh, no, this has absolutely nothing to do with Christine," I said quickly. Her expression softened a bit, so I continued. "I am actually here to see if you would be willing to audition my friend, Elise Verlinden. She had not danced in two years, but she is quite certain that she would be able to pick up where she left off."

"How is it that you know this young lady?"

"She is a maid in my home, Madame. She has a wonderful spirit. We have become great friends – I feel as though she is the sister I never had. I would really appreciate if you would be kind enough to give her a chance."

"Monsieur de Chagny, I am not the type of woman that will hire a young lady simply because our generous patron has asked me to. I require dancers with real talent."

"I assure you, Madame, I would not be asking you to audition her if I did not believe she had real talent."

All right, I admit it. How was I supposed to know if Elise had real talent? I had never actually seen her dance, but she was petite and moved gracefully enough in every day activities. I hoped that if Madame Giry did indeed allow Elise to audition that she would not make a fool out of me.

"Please, Madame Giry," I pleaded. "Just give her a chance. At the very least perhaps she could become an assistant to you. It does look as though you could use an extra hand," I said, gesturing to the messy desk.

Madame Giry appeared to be studying me. She twisted the end of her long, thick braid between her skinny fingers and looked over the clutter on her desk.

"I suppose it would not hurt to give her an audition. Please tell Mademoiselle Verlinden to attend practice tomorrow at noon. I can provide her with the necessary shoes and attire if need be. Besides," she said after a long sigh, "perhaps you are right. If she does not have what it takes to be a dancer here I could use an assistant. Although I'm not sure I would be able to find anything if it wasn't scattered about on my desk somewhere."

"You have always done a splendid job here, Madame Giry," I reassured her.

"Thank you, Monsieur de Chagny. Be sure to have the young lady arrive early tomorrow to get changed and find a suitable pair of shoes."

"Absolutely Madame," I said, standing up. "Thank you again; I know Elise will greatly appreciate such a wonderful opportunity."

As I left the opera, I couldn't help but feel as though I was being watched. I would not at all have been surprised if Erik had listened in on my conversation with Madame Giry. In fact, I almost hoped that he did hear us. Perhaps it would assure him that I was starting a new path in life.

I paced back and forth in the barn as I waited for Elise to meet me. When I got home I told her I needed to speak with her as soon as she was off duty. She told me to meet her in the barn at 8:30 so we could talk.

At 8:35 I heard the barn door creak open. Elise peeked her head in and as soon as she saw me she closed the door and gleefully walked in my direction.

"Hi, Raoul!" she exclaimed, giving me a hug. "I wanted to thank you again for dinner last night, I had a wonderful time. And of course thank you for helping me get rid of Matthew."

"Absolutely," I said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "I had a wonderful time, also. It was nice to be able to talk to someone so openly."

"I know what you mean," she replied. She had quickly changed out of her maid uniform and was wearing a drab gray dress. Even the dull color could not keep her from looking friendly, however. Her greenish-hazel eyes sparkled and her loosely braided hair gave her boring, old lady outfit a look of youth and cheer. She sat down on a bale of hay, and smoothed out her skirt. "I don't mean to sound too over-anxious, but did you get a chance to talk to your friend at the opera?"

"I did," I said nonchalantly, and walked away from her. I turned around and leaned against an empty horse stall. "She said for you to come to practice tomorrow at noon for an audition."

"She said what?!" Elise exclaimed, her eyes grew wide and a large smile spread across her face. "She's willing to audition me?! I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," I said happily. "This is your chance to really find yourself."

"I am a little overwhelmed," she said, standing up. "I mean, I'm so out of shape! How can I go on an audition tomorrow when I haven't danced in two years? I begged my mother to let me dance again, but –"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "When we first met, didn't you tell me your mother died giving birth to you?" I didn't mean to sound so suspicious of her, but I was sure that is what she had told me and I wanted to know why she had lied.

"Yes, I did say that, and it's true," she said, sitting back down on the hay bale. "My father re-married when I was right. Ana, my father's new wife, became very much like a mother to me, so I grew up referring to her as my mother. The only thing I didn't like about Ana is that she never encouraged me to dance. Father always let me dance because he knew I loved it. I had a promising career with my old ballet company and sometimes I think she moved us away from Belgium just so I couldn't dance anymore."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, sitting on a hay bale adjacent to her.

"Her sister was a dancer. She danced with a company for a few years, but then got swayed into a life of prostitution. I suppose she feared the same thing would happen to me. I started dating a lot in my later teen years and I think she figured that my attraction to men would get me in trouble and lead me toward that kind of life. I guess you could say she didn't have much faith in me," she said, shifting her eyes downward.

"That's a shameful thing to think," I said gently. "I can see why she would be protective of you, but she still should have trusted your judgment. You and her sister are two different people. Just because you love dance doesn't mean you'll end up in a brothel."

"I know, but I could never convince her of that. That's why she got me started on being a maid."

"What will she say when she finds out that you are auditioning for the Paris Opera?" I asked.

"By the time she finds out there will be nothing she can do about it," Elise said confidently. "She and my father moved to America the day after I was hired here. Father got a wonderful job opportunity and couldn't pass it up. He is a traveling salesman and they said he could bring mother along, but at my age they couldn't very well expect me to travel all over the country with them. I am sure mother will be quite upset about it, but I doubt she's going to come all of the way back to Paris over it."

"Hopefully you are right."

"I hope so…besides, we don't even know if I will be accepted," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "Perhaps I should practice a bit right now."

She kicked off her low black heels and walked over to the empty horse stall I had leaned on several moments ago. She placed one hand on the door and extended the other up above her head and began doing the warm up exercises I had seen the ballet girls at the opera do.

"I hope I don't make a complete fool of myself tomorrow," she said as she melted gracefully into a grande plié in first position. "I remember Matthew used to ask me to dance for him," she mused as she did a relevé and balanced for a moment before pivoting to face the other direction. "I used to enjoy dancing in front of crowds, or anyone, really. Especially my old lov-, excuse me, beaus," she giggled.

"How many beaus have you had?" I blurted. I did not intend to ask such an inappropriate question; it just kind of slipped out.

"More than is considered to be proper for a lady," she replied with a smirt. "That's why mother used to worry about me, but I always took every precaution."

_Precaution against what?_ I wondered to myself.

Elise noticed my bewildered expression and stopped what she was doing. She cocked her head to one side and gave me a look that answered my question.

"Oh…" I whispered to myself.

"Don't look at me as though I'm a whore," she said, resuming her exercises. "I like to have a good time and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh no, I wouldn't think that about you," I said awkwardly.

"Hey Raoul, can I ask you something?" she said, as she painfully extended her right leg into a beautiful développé en'lair.

"Sure," I replied, hoping that she was going to change the subject.

"Did you and Christine ever consummate your relationship?"

"No," I said quietly. "It only would have complicated things further between us."

"Please, please, please do not get angry at me for suggesting this, but were you really in love with her or did you just really lust her?"

"I lusted her," I stated simply. "Actually, I'm beginning to wonder if I lusted Christine specifically, or if any woman in general would have sufficed."

"Well, do you still feel that lust?" she asked. She had moved into the middle of the barn, and was balancing into a beautiful attitude.

"Sometimes, but definitely not toward Christine anymore."

"Then I think it's safe to say that you're just experiencing the feelings of a typical man of your age. There's no harm in that."

"No…I suppose not."

"You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

"Why is that of any importance?" I said with a hostile tone.

"Relax, I was just curious. I know it's really not any of my business, but if you ever needed any advice on being with a woman I might be able to help seeing as I have had some experience in the area." The words flowed from her lips as though we were talking about an impersonal subject like the weather.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," I said as I got up and removed the small silver flask I kept in my jacket pocket. I took a long swig of the sweet brandy and enjoyed the burning sensation as it trickled down my throat. If this conversation was going to keep going in this direction I was going to need a little libation to get through it.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I could kind of tell by the way you kissed me last night that you haven't had much experience."

"Excuse me, I didn't know I was supposed to kiss you with all the passion in my body," I said sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I know there's no spark between us but you could have put a little more effort into it. Have you kissed anyone else aside from Christine?"

"Yes," I said defiantly.

"Sorry, I mean have you kissed anyone aside from Christine and me?"

"Oh, well, no…" I said sheepishly.

"Well there you go! All you need is some practice. Here, try this." She walked over to me and pulled my right hand out of my pocket. "I want you to try kissing your hand softly. Just barely graze your lips against the skin."

I looked at her as though she was mad. She wanted me to kiss my own hand, for crying out loud!

"Oh come on, just do it. I promise I won't tell anyone about this. If you're ever going to get a woman into your bed you're going to have to know how to kiss her properly. If you can't kiss her and make her feel butterflies she sure as hell won't be interested in making love to you."

"Fine," I muttered as I raised my hand toward my mouth.

"Okay, now as I said, just barely graze your lips against the skin."

I felt unbelievably foolish as I did what she said. How was this going to help me?

"No, no, no…do it like you mean it. Do I have to kiss you to show you how it's done?" she threatened, putting her hands on her hips.

I glared at her for a moment and tried it again.

"Don't tense your lips so much…there, that's better," she said. Her face was uncomfortably close to the hand I was kissing so she could observe what I was doing. After a minute of watching me, she started giggling. "Oh Raoul, you have a lot to learn about women. Don't worry, I'll help you."

She skipped back to the center of the barn and resumed her dancing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Chapter 8

Perhaps being friends with Elise was going to more interesting than I had anticipated. It was kind of awkward discussing personal topics with Elise, but I could tell she was relaxed about it and wasn't going to judge me. After she had me practice kissing on my own hand, she made me do some pushups, because she said "girls like a man with strong biceps". By the time we were through for the evening, I had polished off my entire flask of brandy.

I awoke the next morning with a start when someone knocked loudly on my door.

"Who is it?" I asked, trying to sound as awake as possible. I rubbed my eyes and then propped myself up on my elbow as I tried to focus on the clock across the room.

"It's Elise, may I come in?"

"Oh, yes," I answered, sitting up in bed.

"Raoul!" she exclaimed, as she marched into the room and put her hands on her hips. "You're not even dressed yet! I thought you were going to accompany me to the opera for moral support."

My eyes finally focused in and I saw that the clock read 10:45, the time I had agreed to meet Elise downstairs to take her to her audition.

"Oh Elise, I am sorry," I replied as I climbed out of bed. I was only wearing pajama bottoms, and Elise whistled at my half-naked appearance.

"Well, well, Monsieur de Chagny, you've been holding out on me! I had no idea you were in such good shape," she said as she circled me like a hawk. "A few more pushups and I think you're going have excellent results once we find you a lady."

I had made a habit of jogging and doing sit-ups every morning and every evening since I had gotten home from Erik's, and they had already significantly improved my physique.

I rolled my eyes at her and went into my bathroom to get dressed. When I returned a few minutes later I found that my bed was made and Elise had straightened up my desk.

"I'm afraid I can't help myself," she shrugged. "I have an uncontrollable urge to keep things neat. That's probably why mother encouraged me to be a maid."

I smiled at her as I opened the door to leave. Even if Madame Giry didn't think she was talented enough to be a dancer, she would certainly be a valuable assistant due to her obsessive need to organize things. Dorice had been wrong to call Elise flighty. She was just cheerful, which was a pleasant change from the usual stuffy attitude held by most of the maids I have come across. I knew that today was probably going to be Elise's last day as a maid in my home, and I was certainly going to miss her.

During the carriage ride, Elise chattered excitedly about the audition while she twisted her golden hair into a neat bun. I watched in amazement as she inserted the long black bobby pins into her hair. Had she asked me to help her I most certainly would have stabbed her scalp many times and the bun probably would have fallen out. I was grateful for my own short hair that did not require much effort or upkeep.

As we arrived at the opera, Elise suddenly got quiet. She seemed intimidated by the grandness off the building, and I told her that she had Erik to thank for its beautiful design.

"Really, he designed it?"

"Off the record, yes. You just have to remember not to say anything to anyone about Erik. I'm sure you'll hear talk of the Phantom from the other ballet girls, but you don't know anything, all right?"

"I know, I won't say anything, I promise. Do you think he'll be watching my audition?" she asked nervously, staring up at the Grand Escalier.

"I don't know, perhaps. He has been known to watch rehearsals," I replied, thinking of the time he dropped a piece of scenery on La Carlotta.

She didn't respond to my last statement. Instead, she looked around in amazement at the opulent décor as I lead her toward the backstage area. Elise gripped the ballet shoes and practice skirt she had brought until her knuckles turned white as I knocked on the door to Madame Giry's office.

"Good morning, Monsieur de Chagny," Madame Giry greeted me.

"Good morning, Madame," I said, bowing politely.

"You must be Mademoiselle Verlinden," the ballet mistress said, walking past me. She studied Elise for a moment before inviting us into the office.

I did not blame Elise for being nervous; Madame Giry certainly had an intimidating appearance. Her high cheek bones, stiff posture, and black dress made her look very harsh.

"Now, Mademoiselle Verlinden, I have a few question to ask you before we begin your audition. Where did you receive your prior training?"

"At the Royal Ballet of Belgium, Madame. I began dancing at their school for children when I was three years old, and became an apprentice with the company when I was seventeen."

"Why did you not join the company?"

"My family moved to Paris," Elise replied, looking down at her hands. "My mother never encouraged me to dance and did not allow me to continue my lessons."

"I see. Well, I suppose I shall find out what kind of students the Royal Ballet of Belgium produces," Madame Giry said, standing up. "Come, I will show you to the dressing room."

We both followed Madame Giry to large common dressing room.

"I see you have brought your own ballet slippers," Madame Giry observed. "Do you still have a pair of pointe shoes?"

"Yes Madame, but seeing as though I have not danced in several years I did not think you would want me to wear them right away and risk injury."

"A wise idea, Mademoiselle," Madame Giry replied with a hint of a smile. "That was a very intelligent choice; often times many girls such as yourself will audition in their pointe shoes and end up injuring themselves. I can see that you at least understand that you may not be able to pick up exactly where you left off."

"Oh yes, I do understand that."

"Very good. The top drawer in that bureau contains clean leotards and you will find tights in the second drawer," Madame Giry said, pointing at a worn out dresser.

"Thank you, Madame," Elise said with a small smile.

"Your young lady shows promise," Madame Giry told me as we left Elise to change.

"I was hoping you would agree," I answered.

A moment later Elise returned wearing a white leotard, matching white tights, and her light pink skirt that her father had given to her as a gift several years ago.

"Come," Madame Giry said, taking Elise by the hand. "Practice will start momentarily. Monsieur de Chagny, you are more than welcome to observe but you must stay out of the way."

"Of course, Madame," I said.

The practice room smelled of sweat masked by the various perfumes worn by the ballet girls. The room was long and narrow, with a long white barre lining the back wall and a series of mirrors lining the front wall. I sat down in a small chair near the door to observe. To my right, near the mirror, was a baby grand piano, where the pianist was warming up. On the far end of the room, the wall was lined with chairs, where a group dancers were talking and laughing while they laced up their pointe shoes. Some of the girls were checking their reflections in the mirror, while others were coating their shoes in resin. The one dancer warming up alone at the barre was Meg Giry, the most dedicated ballerina at the opera. The fact that she was Madame Giry's daughter had nothing to do with Meg becoming the lead soloist. She had true talent and was not at all pompous about it.

Madame Giry banged her long black cane sharply on the floor, causing the room to fall into complete silence as the girls turned their attention to the stern ballet mistress.

"Ladies, I would like to introduce you to Elise Verlinden. She will be joining us for practice this afternoon, and I expect you to treat her with respect and make her feel welcome. Now please take your places at the barre so we can begin."

Meg took her place at the head of the barre, and the other girls formed a line behind her. Madame Giry placed Elise in the center of the line between a short brunette girl and a lanky redhead.

"Mademoiselle Verlinden, our warm-up consists of two demi plies, followed by a grande plié, then a relevé and balance. The exercise will be repeated on both sides in first, second, and fifth position," Madame Giry informed Elise. She cued the pianist to begin playing, and the dancers began their warm-up.

I watched as Elise moved in perfect synchronization with the other dancers. Madame Giry would nod approvingly at her every so often, and I felt extremely proud of my friend. Elise looked so happy; her eyes were almost closed and she had a small hint of a smile on her face.

Once the exhausting barre exercises were complete, Madame Giry instructed the girls to get into groups of three so they could practice turns and other combinations across the dance floor. As the soloist, Meg demonstrated the combination by going first, moving effortlessly across the floor. Elise had gotten into a group with the redhead she had been next to at the barre, and a timid-looking girl with jet black hair. Elise didn't do quite as well as she had done at the barre, for she was off a beat and her fouttés left something to be desired.

"The next combination for the afternoon will be: tombeé, pas de bourrée, glissade, grand jeté. Meg, if you will."

Meg led the group by performing the combination Madame Giry barked out. She looked as though she was flying through the air like a bird as she leapt into a beautiful grand jeté, and she barely made a sound upon returning to the floor. Elise's group was next. Elise confidently took her place between the two girls and did the combination. Her grande jeté had the perfect height and extension which obviously pleased Madame Giry.

After several more combinations and a series of turns that made me dizzy, the girls were allowed a brief water break, and then Madame Giry called them back to the floor.

"All right ladies, it is time to rehearse for tonight's performance. Elise, I do not expect you to participate since you do not know the choreography, however you may follow along in the back if you wish."

Elise looked absolutely exhausted. She nodded her head in agreement, and went to the back of the room. The pianist began to play a haunting melody that sounded suspiciously like something Erik would have written. Elise mimicked the steps of the corps de ballet, while Meg performed her own separate choreography in the front of the group.

Until now, I had never stopped to appreciate the beauty of Meg's talent. I had been so focused on Christine that I had not realized what talented individuals surrounded me. Meg was probably still close friends with Christine, which explained her lack of eye contact. She had acknowledged me briefly with a small nod when I entered the room, but made no effort to speak to me. I decided to make amends with Meg as soon as possible.

An hour and a half later, Madame Giry announced that the practice was over, and took Elise aside to speak to her in private. Judging by the look on Elise's face, she was clearly pleased with Madame Giry's decision, and she greeting me with a large smile once she had been excused.

"Oh Raoul!" she exclaimed as she pulled me out the door and into the hall. "Madame Giry has decided to give me a chance! Of course I will not be a part of the company right away, but she is going to permit me to keep attending practice so I can get stronger and start doing pointe again and then she will make a formal decision. She is even going to let me stay in the dormitories so I can focus on my dance and become accustomed to this kind of life again."

"Elise, that is wonderful!"

"Thank you so much, Raoul! Oh, and Madame Giry invited me to see tonight's performance and she said that you should accompany me. You will come, won't you?"

"Of course," I said, somewhat taken aback. _Faust, _the last opera I had attended, had come to a screeching halt when Erik sent the chandelier crashing to Christine's feet.

"What's wrong? Is it because of you-know-who?" Elise whispered, looking around suspiciously.

"Yes," I replied quietly. "I am sure things will go well. We should be on our way so we can go home and get changed."

"Yes, you're right," she said excitedly. She ran off toward the dressing room, and left me standing alone in the hall.

As I waited, the ballet girls began trickling out of the rehearsal room, and I caught Meg's attention as she was on her way out.

"Hello Meg," I said warmly.

"Hello," Meg replied, casting her eyes downward.

"Meg, I want you to know that I am not here to cause any trouble. I know that Christine and I will never be together and I want to apologize for any disrespect I may have shown you in my pursuit of Christine."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Christine is very happy now. She would want the same for you."

There was an awkward silence. Meg shifted her weight from foot to foot as she tried to think of something else to say.

"Your friend did well today," Meg said finally. "How did you meet her?"

"She is a maid in my home. We've become good friends lately and I am just trying to help her accomplish her dreams."

"She is good for you, I can tell," Meg said, smiling for the first time in our conversation.

"Meg, will you help me with my hair?" a tall blonde girl interrupted. She was holding a handful of bobby pins and a hair brush, and her long hair fell loosely down her back.

"Of course Brigitte," Meg said, turning to the girl. "I will see you later Raoul."

Meg and Brigitte walked down the narrow hall toward the same dressing room Elise had gone into.

Elise appeared a few minutes later, with a huge grin plastered on her face.

"Meg Giry is positively delightful," she exclaimed. "She said she had a good feeling about me and offered to help me with anything I need."

The entire way home Elise continued to prattle on about Meg and several of the other girls she had met. It felt really good to know that it was because of me that Elise was so happy. For once I had done a completely unselfish thing by convincing Madame Giry to give Elise a chance. I was confident that there was still hope for me to overcome my reputation as the pathetic Vicomte de Chagny.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Chapter 9

Fate works in mysterious ways. Tonight's performance at the opera is the debut of a new opera called _Don Juan_ written by the famous opera ghost. It seems Erik has promised to be on his good behavior should the managers produce his show. This was bound to be a memorable evening, for I knew Erik and Christine would both be at the performance. Fate keeps throwing the three of us into situations where we are forced to be in the same building. I really hoped Erik and Christine would stay out of sight in Box 5.

Part of me did not want to go, but the other part of me was looking forward to going. The dread of parading around the opera house where everyone knew of my affair with Christine made me sick to my stomach. I knew people would be talking behind my back. They will smile at me politely until I am out of earshot and then whisper, "there goes Raoul de Chagny, he got turned down by a chorus girl," and "poor Raoul, he had such a promising future and threw it all away with a reckless love affair. Now look at him, he's bringing his staff to the opera for no other woman will call upon him." People of my class say terrible things about one another behind closed doors. I myself have said things about people I've come to regret. Even though I have vowed to myself to never speak poorly about another in the future that does not mean people will stop talking about me behind my back.

As much as I dreaded the phony smiles, I knew Elise was going to have the time of her life, and that made it worthwhile. She had never been to an opera of such a grand scale before and was very excited. On the way home she would not stop talking about what she would wear and how she would fix her hair, and how she was looking forward to mingling with the who's-who of Paris.

I decided that I definitely needed a little libation before the opera, so I went downstairs and poured myself a small glass of brandy. I had almost tucked my trusty silver flask into my coat pocket, but had decided the better of it - out of sight out of mind. No need to overdo it.

After taking a sip of the brandy I plopped down in my favorite chair and propped my feet up on the matching ottoman. I had just gotten comfortable when I heard:

"So, thanks to you and your farce of a patronage I now have to find a new employee?"

Dorice's harsh words made me cringe with anger. Before I could reply, she started talking again.

"I suppose it's for the best anyway. Elise was really not the more suitable staff member, she talked far too much and had a little too much fun on her evenings off. The lurid life of theater is probably more appropriate for her."

"How dare you speak of my friend in that way!" I said, standing up.

"Your friend? Please, Monsieur de Chagny, what kind of nobleman makes friends with his maidservant?"

"I do not like what you are insinuating. In case you have forgotten, I have the ultimate authority in this house and if I hear one more unkind word from you I shall find a new head maid," I said firmly, slamming my now empty brandy glass onto the table.

Dorice was stunned. She had never seen me lose my temper in such a way before.

"I-I'm sorry, Monsieur," she apologized quickly. "I didn't mean what I said, I was just…"

"You were just what? I believe you did mean it. You do not know anything about the relationship I have with Elise, and it is not any of your business. On top of that, I do not think you know anything about Elise. She is not at all flighty; she is just a friendly human being. Maybe her uniform isn't as white as yours, and maybe she does like to talk a lot, but perhaps that is because she isn't as arrogant as you are."

"I beg your pardon?" the silver haired old woman cried, her hands flying to her hips. "Are you calling me arrogant?"

"I believe I just did," I answered smugly.

"Well I never! I've had enough of this abuse!" She took off her starched white cap and threw it violently to the floor. "I've never been mistreated like this in all my years of service. I hereby resign. I will have all of my things moved out of the house by tomorrow evening." She angrily stomped out of the room. I heard a series of doors slamming, and I smiled to myself.

Really, what do I need a full live-in staff for? I am the only one living in this house; certainly cleaning can't be that difficult. I decided to give the rest of the staff two weeks notice so they could find new jobs. I would of course keep all of the outdoor maintenance staff aboard, and have a maid come in once a week to do laundry and do all of the serious cleaning. Naturally I would also keep in good graces with the kitchen staff so I could hire them for hosting dinner parties and such. Certainly I can handle the preparation of my meals.

As I reveled in my newfound domestic freedom, Elise appeared in the room. She was wearing a moderately low cut lacy white dress with a beaded bodice. Her pink-toned makeup flattered her peachy complexion, and her hair was done up in a delicate series of braids and curls, which I imagined was going to be a nightmare to undo.

"Do you like it?" she asked, as she swished the airy skirts of the dress. "It was my mother's, my real mother's, wedding dress. I made a few alterations like tearing off the sleeves and adjusting the neckline. I've never worn it before; do you think it will be all right?"

"I think you will be the most beautiful woman there," I replied, kissing her on the hand. I almost felt stupid for not being physically attracted to her. She was indeed going to be one of the most beautiful women there, and I was going to introduce her as simply my friend. Surely that will cause a lot of speculation amongst the Parisian bluebloods.

"Thank you," Elise replied to my compliment. She looked me over carefully and said, "You look very nice as well. Perhaps tonight you will meet the lucky lady you will spend the rest of your life with."

"Please, Elise, stop teasing me like that."

"I'm not teasing, you really do look nice and any single lady there would be lucky to win a dance with you at the after party," she said as she fastened her light pink cloak.

"This is going to be a long night," I groaned as I held the front door open for Elise.

The opera was simply amazing. The new diva was wonderful! La Carlotta had refused to return after the croaking incident, and the managers were forced to find a new diva. I often wonder why Christine did not choose to pursue her singing career as Erik had intended.

The opera itself was unlike anything I've ever seen. A dark storyline complete with a graveyard battle to the death between Don Juan and Passarino over the lovely Aminta. The haunting music and dramatic sets were an overload to the senses, and nearly every woman (and a few men) in the place dissolved into tears at the poignant ending where Aminta declares her love for Don Juan as Passarino is dying at her feet.

The story seemed like the typical love-triangle seen in many plays, operas, and novels, but I knew better. _Don Juan_ was the story of the relationship between Erik, Christine, and myself. I was Passarino, and Erik was of course Don Juan, and we were both fighting over the same woman. Naturally Don Juan ends up with his true love, while Passarino dies a bloody death. I thanked my lucky stars that I had fared better than Passarino. The whole story reminded me once again of what a fool I had been.

The managers cringed as the crowd sat in silence as the curtain dropped upon the final act. The only sound was that of women sniffling into their handkerchiefs. It was as though everyone was wondering if they should applaud this interesting new opera. I rose to my feet and began clapping furiously. Elise quickly joined me, as did the hundreds of others in the audience. I glanced across the auditorium at the managers and Andre was clapping with all his might while Firmin was wiping his brow with an expression of relief. Erik's opera had been a success. I glanced up toward Box 5 and although it appeared to be empty, I knew Erik was somewhere nearby listening to the generous applause his opera had generated.

It wasn't until Elise had mentioned it earlier that I remembered that there is always a public party after every premier. I wasn't necessarily looking forward to it, but I wasn't dreading it as much now as I had earlier. The theatre-going crowd had changed quite a bit over the last year and I did not know as many people.

As soon as we arrived in the foyer, Meg Giry spotted Elise and I.

"Raoul, Elise, I am so glad you were both able to come tonight," Meg said after hugging the both of us.

"You were incredible tonight," I said to Meg. She had been played Aminta's best friend in the opera, and had danced like an angel.

"Thank you," Meg said as she blushed a little. "Elise, why don't you come say hello to some of the other girls. We are all very excited about having you join us and would like to get to know you."

"That would be wonderful!" Elise exclaimed.

I watched as Meg and Elise joined the other dancers by Grand Escalier. Immediately a tall gentleman with dark hair introduced himself to Elise. Some of the male cast members were also eyeing Elise. I felt no jealousy, only happiness for her.

I began to wander aimlessly through the crowd, when a woman about my age in an emerald green dress caught my eye. The dress was made of thick velvet, trimmed with extraordinary jewels. The color of the dress and her deep auburn hair made her vivid green eyes stand out. When she glanced at me I felt as though her eyes had pierced my very soul. She was being escorted by a middle-aged gentleman, whom I assumed to be her husband.

"Monsieur de Chagny, what a pleasure you could make it this evening!" Andre greeted me with a slap on the back. "Glad to see the whole Phantom affair hasn't kept you from the opera."

"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte, it was good of you to come," Firmin chimed in.

"I wouldn't have missed it," I replied.

"The performance was splendid, absolutely splendid!" Andre cheered. "I feel much better about it now. I was quite worried no one would show up for tomorrow night's performance, but after tonight I think the tickets will be selling like hotcakes!"

"Perhaps we should raise the prices," Firmin added.

"Good thought, Firmin, good thought. I shall see the ticket master immediately!" Andre marched off toward the office, and left Firmin and I standing alone.

"Well, while Andre is off doing that, perhaps you would like to meet a dear friend of mine," Firmin said to me.

"All right," I replied.

Firmin led me across the room to the young lady I had just been admiring.

"Monsieur de Chagny, I would like you to meet my good friend Victor Hayden and his lovely niece Cassandria."

His niece! My heart skipped a beat when I heard that she was not married to her escort.

"Good to meet you Chagny," Victor replied in a thick American accent. He shook my hand firmly and gave me a slap on the back. He was a very large man, both in height and circumference. He was going slightly bald on top but had a thick brown beard and rosy red cheeks. I could already tell that he was a bit of an overbearing man, but from his pleasant disposition I also suspected he had a heart of gold.

"It's nice to meet you, too" I answered and then turned to Cassandria. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," I said, kissing her gently on the hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well," she replied demurely.

"I am assuming by your accents that you are both from America. What brings you to Paris?" I asked.

"Well with Firmin's recent success in the opera business I couldn't pass up an opportunity to come visit. Besides, I wanted to see if this ghost hogwash was real," Victor laughed heartily.

"I wouldn't say that so loudly," Firmin whispered, looking around nervously.

"Oh come now, you don't really believe in ghosts, do you?" Victor asked. He then turned to me and said, "Tell me the truth – is this place really haunted?"

"I'd like to stay out of this, if you don't mind," I said, backing away.

"All right then, have it your way," the American said. "Say, why don't you ask my niece to join you in a dance? She's just been standing around all night."

"All right, would you care to do me the honor of a dance, Mademoiselle Hayden?" I asked.

"Yes," she said shyly, and allowed me to lead her to the dance floor.

The young American smelled of sweet vanilla as I held her in my arms and whirled her around the floor. She was very tall, only an inch or two shorter than myself. Her lush auburn hair felt like silk as the long strands brushed the top of my left hand, which was placed gently on her back. I loved the soft crunching sound of the stiff layers of her skirt as it swirled around her. I decided right then and there that I truly respect the torture and effort women go through of getting dressed up.

We did not talk much during our dance, but I instantly felt some sort of connection. It wasn't like the connection I felt with Elise, it was different. I wanted to hold Cassandria in my arms and dance until the break of dawn.

Needless to say, I was disappointed when the song ended and she thanked me for the dance.

"Would you like to continue dancing?" I asked.

"Oh, no…I am rather thirsty. I'd like to find a glass of water," she said politely.

"Good luck, I don't think you'll find anything other than champagne and that vile concoction the stage hands are passing around," I laughed. "Perhaps your uncle wouldn't mind if I walked you around the corner to a nearby café."

"Thank you for the offer sir, but it is getting late and I ought to be going," she said, moving away from me.

"Ah, well you two kids looked like you were having a good time out there," Victor said as he came up behind us and once again slapped me on the back, which was beginning to throb. "Good golly, I've got a bright idea! Why don't you take my niece here out tomorrow night and show her around. This is her first trip to Paris and I'm sure she'd love a tour from a true Parisian such as yourself. What to you say?"

Cassandria looked as though she was going to kill her uncle.

"Well, I don't know," I stammered, looking at Cassandria for an answer.

_God she is beautiful when she's mad_, I thought to myself.

"Oh come on," Victor said, slapping me on the back again. My back was sure going to be sore in the morning. "Cassie here is just a little shy, but I just know she'll have a good time once she gets out and about."

"All right, but only if you would like to go, Mademoiselle," I said politely, turning my attention toward Cassandria.

"Fine, I'll go," she said with clenched teeth. She had her hands folded behind her back, but I could tell her hands were probably balled into fists and her knuckles were probably white.

"Perfect! I'll send her over to your house tomorrow around 5:00, all right?"

"All right," I said.

"It was nice meeting you and you be sure to show my little Cassie-bear a good time tomorrow night."

"Yes indeed," I replied, once again shaking the overbearing man's hand before turning my attention toward Cassandria.

"Mademoiselle Hayden, it has been a pleasure," I said with a bow. "I look forward to tomorrow evening."

"Good night," she replied with reserved modesty.

"Great, just great," I said under my breath as I walked away. "Why do I always end up with beautiful women that hate me to the core?"

"What did you say, Raoul?" Elise said, appearing at my side. Her breath smelled strongly of champagne, but she did not appear to be intoxicated.

"Oh, nothing," I said glancing toward Cassandria. "I'll tell you about it on the way home."

Elise followed my gaze and then turned back toward me with a huge grin.

"Come on, we're going home now!" she exclaimed, dragging me out of the building and into the first empty carriage she could find.

"All right, tell me all about her!" she said eagerly.

"There's nothing to tell, she hates me," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Hates you? I don't think so Raoul, I saw you two dancing and you both looked very happy. Why do you think she hates you?"

"For one she wouldn't continue to dance with me, and she declined my invitation to take her to a café for a drink. Secondly, she looked as though she was going to kill her uncle when he suggested I take her out to show her around Paris."

"I see," she said, sitting back in her seat. "What is her name?"

"Cassandria Hayden, she is an American," I replied. I loved the way her beautiful name rolled off my tongue.

"Perhaps Cassandria is like every other independent female and does not like being told what to do," she said confidently. "You said her uncle asked you to show her around Paris; did he also tell you to dance with her?"

"Yes."

"There you have it! She probably doesn't hate you; she probably just resents her uncle for forcing you upon her. Who knows, she might actually like you. I saw her admiring you from across the room before you two were introduced."

"Really?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes, and I must say she does look like she'd be a good match for you, seeing as you're both tall. Perhaps she'll be swooed by your Parisian accent!" Elise giggled.

"Swooed? Is that a word?" I laughed.

"I made it up myself," she said proudly. "It means she'll be completely enamored by you and fall head over heels in love."

"We'll see about that," I chuckled.

I secretly hoped she was right.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Chapter 10

"No, no, no!" Elise exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Now what did I do?" I asked.

"If you want to seduce a woman you've got to stop talking about yourself! Let her do some talking. And she doesn't want to be questioned like she's being interrogated by the authorities, for heaven's sake!"

I was getting frustrated with the mock dinner Elise had planned. She thought it would be a good idea to rehearse the dinner so I didn't make a fool out of myself in front of Cassandria. Apparently I wasn't doing well.

I must have given Elise a pitiful look, because she calmed down a bit and pointed out exactly what I said.

"Look, Raoul, first you asked where I was born, then you asked where I live now, and then you asked what kind of a childhood I had. Those are great questions, but the way you asked them it sounds like I committed a crime and you were trying to get biographical information out of me. Don't ask the questions so quickly, and ask about less-serious things, like what her favorite thing about Paris is, or what is her favorite flower? That way you'll know what kind of flowers to bring her for your second date."

"Second date? I'll be lucky if I survive the first one," I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

"You'll be fine, Raoul, just don't get too worked up and try to relax a bit. She might be nervous too, so one of you is going to have to lead the conversation."

"Why can't I be the nervous one?"

"Come on, take it like a man," Elise said firmly, slamming her fist on the table. "You have to exude confidence and let her see the charming man that I know. Just pretend you're talking to me."

"You're so easy to talk to, but she's…gorgeous," I sighed.

"Oh thank you very much. And what am I, horsemeat?" Elise answered sarcastically.

"Oh no, that's not at all what I meant! You are of course very beautiful, in fact, you'd give Cassandria a run for her money in a beauty competition. It's just you're easy to talk to because you're my friend and I know you."

"Yes, but remember how awkward our first conversation was? It wasn't until you got me to open up that our conversation began to flow. Maybe start her off with a glass of wine," she suggested playfully.

"That might work…"

"Of course it will! Now just relax and take it easy before she gets here. I have to get over to the opera. Madame Giry wants me to help out backstage at tonight's performance. It is going to be so exciting!"

"Have fun tonight," I said, giving her a big hug.

"You too, and remember she's a person too and is probably feeling the exact same thing you are."

"Thanks," I replied.

I watched as she skipped out of the room. A few seconds later, I heard the front door open and close.

I sighed to myself as I sat back down at the table. The house sounded so quiet. Most of the staff decided rather than to work, they would quit now and use the next two weeks to relax and find a new job. No one seemed terribly upset about their termination, which was a relief. I hated the thought of putting someone out of work, but I knew they would all be quickly re-hired. None of them had been fired for poor performance and I was willing to give the best recommendation to all, including Dorice.

Upon glancing at the clock, I realized that it was nearly 4:30, and that Cassandria was due to arrive in a half an hour so I headed upstairs to get dressed.

I had just finished shaving when I heard a loud banging sound on the front door.

"What in the world?" I said aloud. It was only 4:45, so I doubted it would be Cassandria.

I marched downstairs to the front door and swung it open. Much to my surprise, Cassandria stood on the door step looking a bit perturbed.

"Mademoiselle Hayden! What a pleasant surprise to find you here so early," I said nervously as I tucked in my shirttails and smoothed out my hair with my palms.

"Yes, well, it wasn't my idea to arrive to early," Cassandria explained coolly. "Uncle wanted me to be sure to get here on time so he sent me off nearly half an hour early. I've been standing here for quite some time knocking on the door. Don't you have any staff to answer it for you?" she asked haughtily.

"Well, not anymore…" I said, gesturing for her to come inside. "I live here alone and I let the entire staff go this morning since it seemed frivolous to have so many employees."

"Oh, I see," she replied in a less snooty tone. "Well you may want to invest in a doorbell."

"Yes, perhaps," I replied. "If you'll excuse me for one moment, I need to finish dressing. Please, have a seat in the parlor and I'll be right back."

She swept past me leaving her sweet vanilla fragrance lingering in the air. I clutched my chest as my heart rate began to elevate. Her beauty was so overwhelming; my body didn't know how to function properly in her presence! Quickly, I clamored up the stairs and dressed as hastily as I could. After I sparingly applied a few drops of cologne, I checked myself again in the mirror to make sure I hadn't missed a button and that my hair was perfectly smoothed into place before I headed back downstairs.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs to admire her. She was staring out the window with her back toward me. The lovely plum-colored gown she was wearing was not nearly as extravagant as the dress she had worn to the opera, but flattered her figure just the same. Her hair was perfectly straight, and ended midway down her back. The reddish-brown color of her mane was unlike anything I had ever seen. It wasn't the carrot-like orange that many girls were born with, but it wasn't plain brown like Christine's. Her hair was a dark mahogany that appeared to be deep crimson in certain lights; I have never seen another head of hair like it.

I took a deep breath and walked toward her.

"Did I mention how stunning you look this evening?" I announced, as I walked into the room.

"No, you didn't. Thank you," she said in a surprisingly cold tone for someone who had just received a compliment.

"What would you like to do this evening?" I asked, shrugging off her coldness.

"Whatever you have scheduled," she answered with a sigh.

"Well, I don't have anything scheduled," I replied, remembering what Elise had said. Cassandria was probably used to following her uncle's schedule, so I decided I would let her choose where we would go. "I thought perhaps you would like to decide what to do. We could have dinner at a fancy restaurant, eat at a small café, have a picnic…whatever you would like to do."

Cassandria looked stunned.

"A nice restaurant would be wonderful, but not something too pretentious," she said after a moment.

"I know just the place!" I exclaimed.

The carriage ride to the restaurant was quieter than I would have liked. Cassandria was not being unfriendly; she just didn't seem to have a lot to say. I chose to take her to Les Elysees du Vernet, the same place I had taken Elise.

Once we had ordered our meal I proposed a toast.

"To your stay in Paris," I said cheerfully.

Cassandria smiled softly and raised her glass and gently tapped it against mine. I actually envied the wine glass as she gently placed it to her lips and allowed the smooth liquid to trickle into her mouth.

"Mr. Chagny, I want to apologize for my rudeness earlier," Cassandria said softly as she placed the wine glass back on the table.

"Please, call me Raoul," I said.

"Only if you call me Cassandria," she said coyly.

"Agreed."

"Anyway, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful for your hospitality. I'm sorry if my uncle's pushiness ruined any plans you may have had this evening."

"Nonsense, Cassandria, I had no plans and your uncle may be a bit pushy, but it is my pleasure to entertain you for the evening."

She blushed slightly and took another sip of wine.

"How long do you plan to stay in Paris?" I asked casually, offering her a slice of bread.

"About two weeks," she replied.

"Well I hope I shall see you again before you return to America. What part of America are you from?"

"Near the city of Boston; my father has a large ranch outside of the city. It is quite lovely there."

"I am sure it is; I've heard many stories of the lovely countryside."

"It is indeed beautiful. If you ever decide to visit I shall return your courtesy and show you around."

"Thank you," I replied.

After some more casual conversation, the waiter brought out our dinner and we both began devouring the food.

"This is delicious!" she exclaimed after swallowing a large bite. Unlike Elise, Cassandria had taken my advice and ordered the rack of lamb.

Again, I felt like a fool for envying an inanimate object, but as she gracefully brought the fork to her mouth I felt a twinge run through my body. I had never quite experienced a feeling like this before.

"What are your plans for the rest of your stay in Paris?" I asked, ignoring the rapid beating in my chest.

"Whatever my uncle decides," she said, making a sour face. "He is so damned over bearing sometimes. It was wonderful of him to invite me, but at times the man annoys me something terrible, I'm afraid."

"Any time you need a tour guide or an excuse to get away from your uncle, I would be more than obliged to show you around," I offered, a bit taken aback by her bold language.

"I wouldn't want to intrude on any plans you may have. I am sure there is a certain lady that would not appreciate me spending time with you."

"Excuse me?" I asked, nearly choking on my food.

"I saw the lovely blonde you escorted to the opera last night," she said, casting her eyes downward.

"Oh don't be silly, that would have been Elise, one of my dearest friends. She is going to be a member of the corps de ballet at the opera, so I offered to escort her to her very first opera." All right, it was a small lie – I hadn't exactly offered to take Elise to the opera, but Cassandria didn't need to know that.

"Oh…" Cassandria whispered, looking up. "So you're not seeing anyone?"

"No, are you?" I asked eagerly. The question may have been inappropriate, but I couldn't help myself. The last thing I wanted was to get my heart broken again by pursuing a woman that was attached to another.

"No," she replied, smiling suggestively. "Not yet, anyway."

My heart began to beat even faster. She reminded me in Elise in a kind of way; she was confident yet ladylike. I tried to think of a smart response to her bold statement when the waiter interrupted, asking us if we would be interested in dessert.

"No thank you," Cassandria answered politely.

"Oh no, that will be all," I answered, when the waiter looked at me for an answer. All right, so maybe Cassandria wasn't exactly like Elise the chocolate cake fiend.

"I would love some dessert, but I would much rather get some fine chocolates and eat them in the park if you don't mind," Cassandria whispered eagerly after the waiter left.

"That sounds fine," I replied with a smile.

_Elise and Cassandria will get along perfectly_, I thought to myself.

We lingered a few more minutes before we decided it was time to go in search of chocolate candies. I counted out the appropriate amount of money and left it on the table along with a generous tip, and escorted Cassandria out of the restaurant. The weather was pleasant; in fact, it was unseasonably warm for the month of March. We walked several blocks until we got to a little shop that specializes in selling delicious confections.

I ushered Cassandria inside, and then she eagerly put together a box of chocolates with different fillings and toppings. I paid the cashier for the sweets and held the door open as Cassandria excitedly clutched her precious box of chocolates.

"This is so exciting!" she cried as we walked down the busy street. "I've always dreamed of eating fine French chocolates, but I never dreamed I'd actually be eating them here in Paris!"

"Do you not have many sweet shops in America?" I asked.

"Oh yes, but there is just something so exotic about eating foreign chocolates. You must understand this is my first time abroad. I've never seen anything but America so this is all very exciting to me."

"Really?" I said, as I gestured toward a park bench. "I got the impression that you were quite the traveler."

"I suppose it was my indifference toward you," she said, staring at the open box of chocolates. She wiggled her fingers excitedly before carefully selecting a piece topped with chocolate sprinkles and took a small bite. Her expression turned to sheer ecstasy as she chewed the small piece of edible heaven.

"Yes, well, I suppose that was it," I stammered, still in awe by her expression. I hoped that someday I could give her that very same expression without the aide of chocolate.

"My uncle thinks that at my age I should be married so sometimes he tries to pass me off to the first young man he meets" she said before popping the rest of the piece in her mouth.

"Which would have been me," I said, selecting a piece of chocolate from the box.

"Right," she answered after swallowing. "The truth is, I'd like to be married someday but I don't want an arranged marriage. I'm grateful I was born in America; we don't have as many arranged marriages as other countries."

"I understand," I mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Anyway, the reason I acted indifferent toward you is because you're an attractive Parisian and I'm an American girl."

I gave her a quizzical look and she continued.

"I'm only going to be here for two weeks, which means that you could have taken advantage of me for two weeks and then shipped me off back to America. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened. Last spring I was in New York with my uncle and he introduced me to a young man. We dated the entire time I was there and then I left and he didn't even say goodbye. He had used me for three weeks and didn't even have the decency to see me off at the train station."

"Cassandria, that's terrible!" I exclaimed. "I would not do anything of the sort."

"I can see that. I realized that from the moment you gave me the choice of what to do this evening. You're not like most overbearing men that think they have the ultimate control."

"I didn't always used to be that way," I groaned.

"Hmm?" she mumbled as she took another bite of chocolate.

"It's a long story. Let's just say my friend Elise has knocked a lot of sense into me as of late."

"I'd like to become acquainted with her if you don't mind. My friends back home will just die when I tell them I've gone on a date with a patron of the opera and met a member of the corps de ballet!"

She looked positively radiant as she spoke. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement and the brilliant moon illuminated her gorgeous hair. I had the urge to kiss her passionately right then, but I fought it. I would not embarrass her by kissing her openly in such a public place. Besides, with her mouth full of chocolate I doubt she would have appreciated my spontaneity. Still, I figured a compliment would do no harm. A line Elise had recommended came to mind.

"Your eyes sparkle like emeralds," I said, trying to sound as romantic as possible.

"Thank you," she giggled, smiling shyly. After recovering from her giggles she said, "I'd better save some of these chocolates for later. What time is it, anyway?"

"Nearly 8:00," I said, looking at my pocket watch.

"No wonder I'm so tired!" she exclaimed, yawning. "I'm sorry; I'm still not quite used to this time difference. I've had a wonderful evening, but would you mind walking me back to the hotel?"

"Of course I would not mind." I stood up and offered her my arm. We walked arm in arm back to her hotel, chatting about things we saw along the way.

I had taken Elise's advice and asked Cassandria what kind of flowers she likes. I made a mental note to get a bouquet of lilies before our next meeting.

"Raoul, I couldn't help but notice the stable at your home. Do you ride?" she asked as we approached the hotel.

"Yes, from time to time," I answered. "Do you?"

"Oh yes! I was born and raised around horses."

"I don't suppose you'd like to go riding with me tomorrow afternoon?" I offered.

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid my uncle has made plans for us to have lunch with Monsieur Firmin," she said disappointedly.

"I see…perhaps if you won't be too full from lunch we could ride out to a small lake on my property and have a light picnic dinner," I asked hopefully.

"I'll order a small salad for lunch that way I'll have plenty of room for dinner," she said with a wink.

"Perfect! I will have a chicken dinner packed and ready to go for tomorrow evening," I exclaimed. As we walked up to the entrance of the hotel I offered to walk her inside.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," she answered.

We clamored up 6 flights of stairs before we reached the top floor of the hotel, where her private suite was located.

"Until tomorrow night," I said softly and then placed a kiss on her delicate hand.

"Good night," she replied.

I was about halfway down the hall when she called after me.

"Yes?" I asked, walking back toward her.

"Raoul, I have a question," she said, fidgeting slightly. "In Paris is it proper for a goodnight kiss on the first date?"

Without a word I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her passionately. Much to my delight, she didn't recoil immediately; instead she kissed me back with just as much passion.

"Goodnight, Cassandria," I whispered into her ear as our kiss finally ended.

"Goodnight, Raoul," she whispered back, and placed a tender kiss on my cheek.

Mindlessly, I stumbled back down the endless stairs and into the lobby. I must have been beaming for my face began to hurt because I was smiling so much. The doorman gave me an odd look and then patted me on the shoulder as he recalled the beautiful woman I had just escorted up the stairs.

"Lucky man," the doorman called after me.

I nodded in agreement and continued to smile all of the way home.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Chapter 11

"What a wonderful night's sleep," I said to myself as I finally climbed out of bed.

Bright morning sunlight streamed through my large picture window as I opened the drapes. I took off my pajama shirt and did a few simple stretches, and then dropped to the floor to do several sets of push-ups and sit-ups.

After my last push-up, I collapsed back onto the bed and my mind wandered off toward the prior evening. The day was not going to go by nearly fast enough! I could not wait to be with Cassandria again. She was such a lovely woman; I enjoyed her fun personality, her honesty, and of course her looks were quite stunning. The way a brief touch of her hand or her warm smile made my heart skip a beat was incredible. Just thinking of Cassandria made my stomach flutter. Not even Christine had given me such feelings of desire.

I decided to get the rest of my exercising done before the morning was over, so I could spend the rest of the day planning my picnic with Cassandria. I ran my ten laps around the barn, and then proceeded to lift handfuls of horseshoes. Elise had come up with this exercise the day before after finding a pile of abandoned and weathered horseshoes behind the barn. She had instructed me to hold five full sized horseshoes in each hand and lift them as if I were lifting weights. I didn't mind this exercise except for the fact that my hands were covered in orange rust when I was through.

Huffing and puffing, I jogged back to the house after I was done lifting the horseshoes, and rummaged around in the kitchen for some kind of nourishment.

"There is no food!" I said aloud as I opened cupboard after empty cupboard. It wasn't until I had eaten half of a stale biscuit that I realized there wouldn't be any food until I purchased it; there was no maid to buy it for me. I found a pencil and a piece of paper and began to make a list of the items I needed to stock the kitchen with. Growing up in a home with kitchen staff hadn't given me much of an opportunity to perfect my culinary skills, but how hard could it really be? Soups certainly couldn't be that difficult to prepare, so I planned to make a soup as my first meal alone. I pulled a giant book filled with recipes the cooking staff had collected over the years, and jotted down the ingredients to a vegetable beef soup.

For my picnic with Cassandria, I planned on picking up a pre-roasted chicken and some fresh bread from one of the nearby cafes. I would do all of my grocery shopping first, and then pick up the chicken and a fresh bouquet of lilies on my way home.

On my way out I nearly smacked right into Elise, who was just about to knock on the door.

"Raoul!" she exclaimed, clutched her chest. "You gave me quite a start, I didn't except the door to come flying open!"

"I'm sorry," I replied. "Are you all right?"

"Yes I'm fine, I just needed a moment to catch my breath. How was last night?"

"It was perfect," I answered dreamily.

"You must tell me all about it!"

"Of course. What are you doing right now? I need to buy some groceries, would you like to come?"

"Yes, I just have to be back for practice at 11:00," she replied and jumped into the carriage.

I climbed up onto the carriage and took hold of the reins. The second we started moving, Elise hit me with a barrage of questions.

"Slow down," I said. I was going to take my time telling Elise about last night. It would be more fun that way; it would be like re-living it all over again.

"She arrived early," I began, remembering how lovely she looked standing on the front steps looking perturbed. "She was a bit upset because apparently she had been knocking on the door for quite a while before I heard her. I wasn't fully ready yet, so she waited downstairs while I finished dressing. You should have seen her, Elise. She looked magnificent!"

"I'm sure she did; she looks like she has plenty of fine clothes judging from the dress she wore to the opera," Elise commented.

"Yes, well her dress was a bit more understated than the gown she wore to the opera. It's her hair and eyes that amaze me. I've never seen that shade of hair before, and her eyes dazzle like emeralds."

"That's my line!" Elise interrupted and punched me in the arm.

"Ouch!" I said, feigning pain as I rubbed where she hit me. "I know it was your line and I'd like to thank you for it."

"You're welcome," she smirked. "Go on."

"She seemed quite surprised when I asked her what she would like to do for the evening. She said something about whatever I had scheduled, and was stunned when I told her she was to create the agenda. We ended up going to the same restaurant you and I went to."

"That was a wise choice. It has a very nice atmosphere."

"I agree. Anyway, things were not off to the best start so I ordered a bottle of wine as you suggested. After the first sip, Cassandria apologized for her rudeness and said it is caused by her overbearing uncle."

"I can see where she's coming from," Elise interrupted. "Firmin introduced him to all of us ballet girls and he seemed quite boisterous. I can't imagine staying with him for two weeks like Cassandria has to!"

"Neither can I," I agreed. "Anyway, on to the next part of my story," I continued. "It seems Cassandria was under the impression that you and I are a couple."

"You? And me?" Elise laughed. "That's ridiculous! Siblings perhaps, but a couple? We barely spent any time together at the opera. I wonder how she got that impression? We didn't even dance!"

"I don't know, but that's what she thought. I quickly set her straight on the matter."

"Good," Elise answered firmly. "Luckily Andrew didn't get the impression at all."

"And who, pray tell, is Andrew?" I asked curiously.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, wait your turn," she said playfully. "You're the one telling stories right now. I'll tell mine later."

"All right, but you'd better not forget," I answered. Yesterday I had been so wrapped up in preparing for my date with Cassandria that I hadn't even bothered to ask Elise how her night at the opera had gone. I remembered the tall gentleman that introduced himself to her, and wondered if he was the Andrew fellow she had mentioned.

"Something tells me you won't let me forget," she replied. "Anyway, what happened after you told her we were friends?"

"She asked if I was seeing someone and I said no, then I asked her the same question. She said no, and then after a pause she said not yet."

"Oh Raoul! That's wonderful!" Elise cried, giving me half a hug which proved to be somewhat difficult due to the bouncing carriage.

"I know," I answered. "After dinner we got some chocolates and - "

"Chocolate!" Elise answered and clapped excitedly. "I knew I liked her!"

"I think you two will get along wonderfully," I laughed. "You were the first person I thought of when she mentioned getting chocolate."

"Good. So what happened after you got the chocolates?"

"We walked down to the park and talked while we ate the chocolates. She's not exactly like I thought she was. I thought perhaps she was going to be a bit more snobbish but she's very down to earth. As I walked her back to her suite we made plans to go riding and have a picnic this afternoon."

"How wonderful!" Elise exclaimed. "Raoul I am so happy for you."

"Thank you, but you have not yet heard the best part. I of course walked her to her door and as I was leaving she called me back and asked if in Paris it was appropriate for a good night kiss after the first date."

Again, I must have been grinning from ear to ear, because Elise commented on my expression.

"You look like a child on Christmas morning!"

"You don't know how wonderful it was, Elise. Her lips were so velvety smooth and they tasted a bit like chocolate. Her vanilla fragrance is almost overwhelming when I'm that close to her. My body just doesn't know what to do."

"Just do what comes naturally," Elise replied as she shrugged her shoulders. We had just arrived at the grocer, so Elise immediately jumped out of the carriage and helped me tie up the horse. I was glad to have her with me, for surely she would be of great assistance while grocery shopping.

I was right; Elise helped me pick out all the proper ingredients I needed as well as a few extra things to snack on between meals. She was a smart shopper, until she spotted the candy shelf. Silently, she ogled the many chocolates and hard candies as I paid for my groceries.

"It is such a shame I can't eat as much chocolate as I used to," she sighed as we left the grocer. "Madame Giry says I have the perfect build, so I mustn't overindulge in sweets if I am to maintain my slim figure."

"Surely a piece every now and then can't hurt," I said as I pulled out a piece of peppermint candy from my pocket.

"I suppose you're right," she replied and eagerly popped the piece of candy into her mouth.

"Now, I've kept up my end of the deal and told you about Cassandria, so you must tell me about Andrew," I said as we walked toward the café where I planned to order a chicken.

"Yes, you're right," she replied. "Right after Meg took me over the meet the other girls, this tall, handsome gentleman introduced himself to me. His name is Andrew Broussard, and he owns a small furniture shop downtown. Raoul, he is simply charming! We danced several dances before he had to return home, but we have plans to meet again tomorrow night after the performance."

"That is wonderful!" I replied. I held the door open for her as we walked into the café so I could order the chicken for my picnic with Cassandria.

While we waited for the chicken, Elise and I sat at a small table with two cups of coffee and chatted about my plans for the picnic.

"You do have a blanket to put on the ground, don't you Raoul? She will not want to get her dress filthy."

"Yes, last night when I got home I made sure I had a picnic basket and a blanket. I also packed plates and utensils in the basket so I wouldn't forget."

"My my, you're becoming quite responsible," she mused.

"I really owe it all to you, Elise. You're helping me improve myself."

"I don't know what to say," she replied, blushing slightly.

"You don't have to say anything. I'm just thanking you for being yourself, I suppose."

"It is my pleasure," she replied with a smile and finished the rest of her coffee. "I'm afraid I have to be going. I don't want to be late for practice."

"I was hoping that you would be able to help me choose a bouquet of flowers," I replied.

"Well, I suppose if we hurry I could help you. There is a lovely flower stand just down the street and it's on my way."

I quickly stood up and told the cashier that I would be right back to pick up the chicken, and then escorted Elise out of the café. We walked hurriedly to the flower stand.

"Now, what did you say her favorite flower was?" Elise asked as we arrived.

"Lilies; I was thinking of getting a bouquet of just lilies. What do you think?"

"Well, that would be fine, but I think a bit of variety would be better," she said tactfully. "Here, try mixing the lilies and these dahlias."

She selected 4 lilies and walked over to a bucket of dahlias and selected 4 pink dahlias, and then 4 small pink roses. She arranged them together with small stems of baby's breath in between, and then picked out a large fern leaf for the back of the bouquet. She selected a white ribbon and tied the bouquet together.

"There," she said, and handed me the bouquet.

"Wow, this is much prettier than anything I would have arranged. Thank you," I said happily as I brought the bouquet over to the cashier.

"You're quite welcome," she said and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Well, I must be going. Thank you for the coffee and good luck tonight!"

"Goodbye Elise," I called after her as she began to walk quickly toward the opera.

"Goodbye Raoul!" she called back.

With the bouquet in my hand, I walked happily back toward the café to pick up the chicken. As I approach the café, I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed Christine going into a dress shop next door. For once I didn't feel the powerful urge to talk to her, although I considered going in to the dress shop just to say simple hello, but quickly thought the better of it. She probably didn't want to see me, and I didn't need to see her either. Satisfied with newfound closure with Christine, I smiled to myself and went inside the café to pick up my roasted chicken.

I was just packing up the chicken and the bouquet in the carriage when I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see Elise running frantically down the street. Her hair was flying wildly around her face and I immediately thought something terrible had happened.

"Elise, what in the world is going on?" I asked. She must have run all of the way back

from the opera, for she was panting like a dog and had a concerned look on her face.

"Raoul," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Thank goodness I caught you."

"What is it? Are you all right? Has something happened?"

"No, no, I just thought of something," she replied as her breathing returning to normal. "It's not even noon yet – how are you going to keep the chicken warm until it is time to eat it?"

"Is that all?" I laughed as a feeling of relief washed over me. I had expected her to come with awful news, not to ask how I planned on preparing the chicken.

"Well it's important," she said huffily as she placed her hands on her hips. "You don't want to serve her cold chicken now do you?"

"Don't worry," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I have everything taken care of. There is a small rotisserie in the kitchen at home. I'm simply going to pack it up and bring it with us. I'll build a fire wherever we have the picnic and we can warm it up. Really Elise, I'm not that simpleminded."

"Yes, well…I wanted to be sure," she replied sheepishly.

"Raoul? Is that you?" I heard a far too familiar voice behind me say.

I turned around to see Christine standing behind me.

"Christine, hello," I said, somewhat surprised to see her. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Elise giving me a bewildered look.

"Is everything all right? I was leaving the dress shop when I heard someone calling your name," Christine said, eyeing Elise.

"Yes, everything is fine," I replied. After an uncomfortably long pause, I broke the silence by introducing the two women. "Please excuse my manners. Elise, this is Christine. Christine this is Elise."

The two ladies smiled politely at each other, and Elise gently nudged me in the ribs. I nodded softly. She wanted to know if this was the Christine I had been "obsessed" with.

"I suppose if everything is all right I should be on my way," Christine said awkwardly after another moment of silence.

"Me too, Madame Giry will have my head if I'm late for practice," Elise said quickly.

"Madame Giry? Are you a dancer at the opera? How come I have not seen you before?" Christine asked curiously as she carefully studied my friend.

"I am new at the opera. I am not officially part of the corps yet, I'm on trial for the time being. Anyway I really must be going. It was nice to meet you, Christine. Raoul, good luck," she said turning toward me and giving my arm a quick squeeze.

"Goodbye Elise, I will see you tomorrow," I replied with a smile.

"Elise wait, I am going to the opera. Perhaps you would like to ride with me; it would be much more efficient than traveling by foot," Christine offered as she gestured toward a waiting carriage down the street. "I know what the wrath of Madame Giry is like all to well."

"Yes thank you, that would be nice," Elise replied, raising her left eyebrow as she glanced at me.

I shrugged my shoulders slightly and gave her a small wave as she walked toward Christine's carriage.

"Goodbye Raoul," Christine said softly, with the tiniest hint of friendliness in her voice. I could tell she hadn't yet forgiven me, but she was not quite so furious.

"Take care, Christine."

I watched as the ladies climbed into the carriage and headed off toward the opera.

"Interesting," I mumbled under my breath. I shook my head and climbed into my own carriage. What on earth was Christine up to?


End file.
